Challenges
by PariahCam
Summary: My "100 Word Challenge" fic. Each chapter will be centered on a new word. Some chapters will be connected to each other. No relationships. Voted Best Overall Fic In Progress in the Western Wood Narnian Awards 2010
1. Beginnings

**Author's Note: **Quite some time ago, I was informed of the "100 Word Challenge". I finally decided to try my hand at it with The Chronicles of Narnia. I have been an avid fan all my life, and so I hope I do it justice. I want to give my readers a heads up, however. The chapters will not be in the exact order of the list. I will write them as I gain muse, and no sooner.

**Summary: **Edmund's first day as the Just King of Narnia.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it. It belongs to the wonderful C.S. Lewis and Walden Media.

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**001. Beginnings**

"Edmund, it's time to get up!"

The cheery voice woke me from my slumber. I groaned, shielding my eyes from what was sure to be a bright sun. As I turned to face the day, something seemed off. Not being able to quite place what was wrong, I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. Either I had adjusted to the morning light with inhuman speed, or the dawn was barely breaking.

"Lucy," I tossed my younger sister a stern look. "Why did you wake me so early?"

My impish sister simply giggled. Even as I threw my pillow at her in tired frustration, I could feel a smile creeping over my lips. I wasn't quite sure why I was smiling, but I was nonetheless. Lucy seemed to take my expression as a show that I understood why she had awoken me and she left. My eyes followed after her skipping frame until I could see it no more. Sighing and shaking my head, I slowly slipped my legs over the edge of the mattress. A pair of cashmere slippers awaited my chilled feet and after putting them on I shrugged on a glistening robe. With one final glance at the waking Narnian sun, I turned and walked out of my room.

As I walked down the hall, I struggled to remember the way to the breakfast area. Learning the locations of all the rooms in the Cair would be quite the chore. It seemed Peter had had the same problem as I when I noticed him fall in step behind me.

"Who was your wake up call?" I asked, my smile turning into a smirk.

"Susan." He replied, rolling his eyes playfully.

"I thought as much. Lucy wouldn't dare try and wake you." We both laughed at this, knowing how beastly my elder brother could be in the mornings.

"I doubt she'll ever try again after what I did to her that first time." Our laughs only grew in volume as we remembered his near roar and evil glare at the small child. She had been three at the time and the experience had sent her to our mother in tears.

We arrived at the dining room moments later, both girls seated at their designated spots and watching us expectantly. They, like us, wore morning robes of their designated color. Lucy's red silk brought out the beautiful streaks of rust in her hair, and Susan's blue accented her dark cobalt eyes. Though I had teased Peter about his purple after our coronation, I thought it looked suiting on him, his blonde hair balancing the violet. My silver was simply annoying in my opinion, but my sisters countered my complaints by insisting it matched my eyes and emboldened my hair perfectly.

Peter and I took our places and waited for our morning meal to be delivered. The food that was set before us was a simple affair. A slice of ham, an egg, sausages, and the drink of our choice was arranged nicely on a china platter and in a steel maser. A gold design was engraved into the dishes, and each of us admired the intricacy of the pattern.

The conversation during the meal was as light as the food itself. Peter and Lucy spoke the most while Susan and I simply put in our two cents every now and again. I was too distracted to speak much, and I think the others understood. Insecurities and doubts pushed on my thoughts, but I simply pushed back and it sent both of us reeling. I hadn't the time to worry about the right I had to be here, if I had any at all. I had too much work to do today, and I couldn't risk slowing myself or the others down. But the struggle to keep myself off the topic kept me too busy to focus on other subjects as well, and so I sat with as blank a mind as I could manage. Unfortunately, I think my face followed suit, for at one point during breakfast Peter asked if I was feeling well.

"I'm fine, Peter." I insisted, smiling reassuringly at him.

He gave me a worried glance but said no more. He never had the time, for at that moment our meals were taken and Oreius came to lead us to the throne room. As we walked he told us of the tasks at hand. They were explained to us the day before and we were well aware of the many alliances that needed rebuilding, but we listened quietly and patiently all the same. The first on the list of trusts needing to be mended was Archenland. King Lune was expected to arrive later in the day and speak with us. Until he and his party came we would have our hands full with local matters that needed tending to. The Winter had barely ended and already Talking Animals, Fauns, Satyrs, and the like were arguing over who belonged where, who was allowed to take from which clump of berry bushes, and so on. Though, I don't think "arguing" was quite the word for it. They were meager trifles and I'm certain most matters were brought to us simply because the Narnians wished to see their new Kings and Queens. It was flattering in a way, I will admit, but rather annoying as well. If Aslan allowed it they would have a lifetime to meet with us, making the rush quite unnecessary in my opinion.

We entered the room expecting…well…I'm not precisely sure _what _we were expecting to find. All I knew was it was not what we found. Ordered chaos filled the large chamber. Guards stood along the walls, swords in their sheaths and looking as though they were having an endless staring contest. A chamberlain sat near the thrones next to a stack of papers, all of which I feared were matters that we were expected to address that day. Beyond those, everyone was scurrying about. Upon our entering, a pair of Fauns, a Dryad, and countless breeds of Animals rushed from where they had been chatting to form what was supposed to be a straight line to speak to us. A few voices rose, arguing with each other that they were the first ones in line, but when they saw us take our seats, they quickly shut their mouths.

It took nearly four hours, but at last I and my siblings had filtered through the large list of small complaints and solved each and every problem. As the final badgers waddled out of the throne room, my brother and I tossed the other a relieved look. We had hoped to have at least some time to ourselves before King Lune arrived, but there is a vast difference between what we hoped and what was. As the four of us stood to take a break from the stone room, a horn announced the arrival of Archenland's king. I closed my eyes for a moment in an attempt to keep my composure before taking my seat on my throne once more. The King, Queens, and myself watched in interest as King Lune's party filtered in. Grand steeds of dark colors ridden by tall men filed through the room in a straight line, taking their spots between the Centaur guards. It looked almost choreographed and I had to wonder how many diplomatic trips these men had been on.

After what seemed like an endless line of soldiers (though there were only fifteen at the most) the King himself finally rode in. His cape fell lightly over the flanks of his black stallion. His crown sat perfectly atop his head, and he wore an anxious, noble, but not overly-stern expression. There was doubt in his eyes, but hope as well, and I felt the negotiations would go well.

"Greetings, King Lune of Archenland. We welcome you to Cair Paravel." My brother said, bowing respectfully before the ruler. A regal smile graced his lips and the foreign king returned the gesture.

"Thank you, High King." He replied, his deep voice booming. If the grand hall had not been shrouded in tapestries and a thick carpet I'm sure his voice would have echoed.

After we had all become acquainted with each other, the negotiations began. It was smooth going for the most part. He seemed wary in trusting our rule so quickly, but I did not hold this against him. If he had been any more eager I would have started to worry. Only a fool would trust four children, none older than thirteen, with immediate enthusiasm. Even I found it somewhat strange, and I was one of the Kings.

Several hours later a treaty was finally signed between Narnia and Archenland. We had our first formal ally, and it felt rather comforting. We had been told not to expect a quick and painless peace and, in the case of countries yet to visit and be visited, a peace at all. But our first success warmed the four of us, especially me. For years I had never truly known the comforting feeling of victory and support. But now I had a taste of it, and it was wonderful.

After speaking to King Lune for another hour on technicalities and details of the treaty the lot of us retired for dinner. We had lunched during the negotiations with Archenland, but already I was once again starving. If I ate as much of the Narnian food as I wished I would quickly gain weight, I was sure. Though Susan would have no problem with my gaining a few pounds, I certainly would. I felt fine as I was, and I ate as much as is to be expected from a growing boy, anyway. If she had a problem with my metabolism rate, then she would have to learn that there are some things she just cannot fix.

It was another four hours or so before I tumbled into bed with a groan. The moon was nearly out of sight of my window, boasting of the late hour. I changed into my nightwear and slid under my covers, welcoming sleep with open arms. My eagerness was cut short, however, with a turning of my door knob. I rolled over to face my door, confused as to who would want to enter. The girls had gone to bed long before I, and Peter had never walked into my room without permission before. As worry began to overcome me, the hesitant person on the other side of the wall revealed himself. It was, in fact, my brother. His face was slightly pale and he looked rather nervous.

"Edmund…can I come in?" He spoke at a whisper, forcing me to strain to hear him.

"Sure." I answered, pushing my covers aside and sitting up.

He sat quietly next to me, looking at me for several long seconds. I merely looked back, trying to see behind his blue eyes and into his thoughts. Though I could barely see his face in the darkness, I could feel something was troubling him. As the silence began to grow uncomfortable, I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly.

"What is the matter?" I asked, my voice quiet and supportive. He remained quiet for another moment, blinking away his thoughts.

"I can't sleep." He admitted, pulling his gaze away from me and turning it to the floor.

"You haven't even tried." I joked, smiling softly.

"I know." Peter whispered. I could see, even in the darkness of my chamber that he had begun to shake.

"Peter, what's wrong?" I scooted closer to him, placing a hand on his back.

"I'm worried." My brother replied, his voice getting softer as the conversation went on.

"About Archenland? Don't worry. The treaty will hold. King Lune-" Peter cut me off with a shake of his head.

"I'm worried about you." He looked up at me, his crystal blue eyes dark with fear.

I stared at him for a moment, gauging his expression. He watched me with intent eyes, the look of terror in them unmistakable. If he had been born with eyes that were even a shade lighter, I'm sure I could have seen the memories replaying themselves in his mind. His fear, his worry, his utter dread had been obvious at the end of the battle at Beruna. I knew he had thought me dead, or on the verge of death. I probably had been. I had just never considered how deep the shock would have gone, how much it would have affected him.

"Peter, there's no need to worry. I'm right across the hall from you. I'm safe in the Cair. We all are." I tried to make my voice sound as reassuring and light as possible.

"But sometimes 'across the hall' is too far away." He rebutted.

"Then on those nights," I offered quietly, supportively. "You can sleep with me."

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**Author's Note: **That was a crummy ending, and I apologize. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and rather necessary. I know my writing is not up to snuff, however much I wish it to be. I would love your help in improving, and any tips are welcome. But please, don't send me flames. If you don't like my story, send your complaints in a kind, orderly fashion or send none at all.


	2. Sunset

**Author's Note: **This chapter was inspired by a painting my friend did. Therefore, I dedicate this to her. I love you, Wolfay!

**Summary: **With a storm just passed, the Pevensie Children look out of Cair Paravel and witness a stunning display of color.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them. I just wish FFN wouldn't rub it in…

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**032. Sunset**

The thunder outside rumbled throughout the Cair, sending the youngest of the Kings and Queens scurrying under her eldest brother's bed covers. She whimpered slightly, fear and worry etched into her features. As soon as the echo of the storm had died down, Lucy scampered over to the window quickly. A bolt of lighting split the sky straight down, lighting up the room and Lucy's excited face. Before the thunder could do it for her, Lucy raced back to Peter's bed and hid in her nest. The High King watched his sister with amusement as she repeated the process many times over.

"You are going to wear yourself out, Lucy." He smiled, shaking his head. His eyes followed her as she flew past the chair he was seated in to look out the window once more.

"No I am not!" She said, gasping in excitement as the light show danced in front of her eyes. Before Peter could speak, Susan burst into his room.

"Peter! I can't find – Oh!" The Gentle Queen gasped in relief when she saw her sister cowering under Peter's bed sheets. "Lucy, you frightened me."

"I am sorry, Susan." Lucy said as she scrambled out from under the covers. The Queen once again dashed to the window and waited for the lighting to strike.

"What are you doing, Lucy dear?" Susan asked, walking over to her younger sister.

"She's racing the thunder." Peter joked.

"Am not!" The Valiant argued, smiling when electricity once again hit Narnia somewhere. "I want to see the lightning, that is all."

"But I thought you were scared of thunder?" The elder queen asked, puzzled.

"Precisely. Thus why she-" Peter was cut off when Lucy rushed by him and back into his bed.

Susan giggled at the sight of her sister. A clump of hair had failed to make it under the bedding was sticking out haphazardly. The dark-haired sister sat on Peter's bed next to the lump that was Lucy and stroked her back.

"How long have you been doing this?" Susan asked with a smile that Lucy could not see.

"Almost three quarters of an hour." Peter answered for his baby sister.

"You've been running back and forth for that long?"

The section of covers that must have been on top of Lucy's head crumpled as she nodded. A few moments passed, and when no thunder sounded, the redhead peaked out from her hiding place. She gave the window a quizzical look, wondering why the thunder had not sounded yet. When she had climbed halfway out of the covers, the sound tore through the room. Lucy gasped and hid underneath the sheet once again.

"The storm is passing." Susan said matter-of-factly.

Peter stood and headed for the window. Through the darkness that was the clouds, a ray of light shone down on Narnia. The Magnificent King watched in silence as more and more rays burst through the clouds. After what seemed like ages most of the clouds had finally vanished, leaving a sky streaked with the sun's setting light.

"Girls, come have a look." Peter smiled, motioning to his sisters to join him.

The pair stood up from the bed and walked to stand next to him, Lucy's eyes widening at the beauty. Deep shades of navy, indigo, and cobalt blue dragged across the sky like fingernail marks. Their edges were coated in purples, reds, and oranges. Though they could not see the Eastern Sky from Peter's window, the three knew that stars were beginning to shimmer.

The peace was shattered when Edmund stumbled into the room. His hair was somewhat frizzy from running his fingers across his scalp. He had been working hard, trying to learn each and every Narnian law inside and out. As head of the Narnia Justice Court System, he had felt it was his duty to do nothing _but _learn. He was running himself ragged with the information, and at the sight of his glazed eyes, Peter knew he would have to have a word with the young boy.

"Have you seen the sunset?" The Just King asked the group, not quite registering the fact that they were standing by the large window.

"I'm surprised you have. How long have you been working today?" There was a slightly-disappointed tone to Peter's words.

Edmund shrugged. "I don't keep count. And why is it so surprising that I would miss a sunset? Doesn't my window face to the West?"

Susan smiled softly. "You didn't notice when I ran into your room asking if you had seen Lucy."

"You did? Oh…I'm sorry about that. There she is." As Edmund pointed to his little sister, he gave an embarrassed smile.

The Gentle Queen rolled her eyes and smirked. "Why thank you. But Peter's right, Ed. You have been working much too hard. You're barely twelve. I'm sure Narnia will forgive you if you don't have every law down to the most insignificant notation memorized."

The Just King simply sighed at this, once again running his fingers through his hair. Without a word he joined his siblings at the window. For a moment the three sat in silence, watching in awe as the colors slowly changed shape and shade.

"You know," Edmund's soft voice rose. "My window has a better view."

Everyone's faces broke into a wide smile, and in a rush they followed Edmund to his room. They gathered in front of his equally-large window, staring with wide eyes at what lay before them. Their brother had been right. Now that they could see directly to the west everything was much more magnificent. The sun was just below the tops of the trees, casting the room in an ethereal glow. The rivulets of colors gathered at the focal point where the sun rested just beyond sight. They mingled and mixed into a stunning array of deep blues, far clearer, brighter, and bolder than any that had ever or would ever be seen on Earth.

Peter tore his eyes away for a moment and glanced about his brother's room. As he had feared, every available surface had been covered in page after page and book after book of Narnian Law. Many of the pages had scribbles that filled the margins and mixed in with the printed words. The handwriting, though more script-like, was clearly Edmund's. Had he done all of that writing that day? A hand rested on the High King's shoulder and he turned with a start to face his sister. A sad, surrendering look gleamed in her eyes and she smiled softly.

"We'll talk to him about it another time." She whispered, pulling him back toward the window.

The four stood, arms wrapped around each other in a large hug, as the sunset turned to twilight, and as the twilight turned to darkness. An hour after darkness fell, a chambermaid happened to walk by Edmund's open door. She peaked inside and smiled at the sight of the children pointing out the constellations to each other with excitement. The Valiant Queen bounced eagerly as she found her favorite constellation and the others beamed happily at her glee. The chambermaid quietly slipped away, leaving the Kings and Queens to enjoy their perfect sunset.

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**Author's Note: **Wow…that didn't turn out at _all _like I had wanted it to. But I have tweaked it as much as I am able, and so I'll have to suffer the shame of posting this. Enjoy, and don't worry. Not all of the oneshots will be nearly as touchy-feely as this one or the one before.


	3. Sunrise

**Author's Note: **This chapter is connected to the previous one in that it takes place the next morning and directs the issue I touched upon with Edmund. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope I did them all justice.

**Summary: **The morning after the thunderstorm and sunset, Peter decides to confront Edmund about his exhausting behavior.

**Disclaimer: **If I _did _own the most incredible book series ever published, which I _don't_, do you really think I'd waste my time writing _fanfiction?_

**031. Sunrise**

Edmund rolled over with a groan. His arms stretched out above his head and his elbows cracked with morning stiffness. The King's eyes batted open slowly, a dim light catching his eyes. It was morning already? With a yawn, the young boy sat up and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. It wasn't until he began to swing his feet over the edge of the bed that he realized he wasn't alone.

"Peter!" He shouted, startled. He jumped back when he saw his brother, standing naught but a foot or so away.

"It's about time you woke up." His brother's voice was nearly monotone, though carried some of the joy with which the statement was meant to be said.

Edmund peered past his older brother to look out the window. He could see stars at the tree line, the dark sky fading into light as it drew higher above his window and closer to the East. It was barely sunrise! Usually his brother wouldn't wake him until at least a half hour after, giving the Cair plenty of light so the boys could see as they trained with their swords.

"Why did you wake me up so early?" Edmund protested, falling back in his bed. "I barely had a chance to get any sleep."

"And whose fault is that?" This time, Peter's voice wasn't just monotone, it was angry.

Edmund flinched back slightly from the biting tone. It wasn't like Peter to be angry with him. Sure, Peter wasn't the world's most enthusiastic person in the morning, but he had never been mad at anyone else for complaining about getting up. What had gotten into him?

"What do you mean by that?" Edmund asked with downcast eyes, his words a little harsher than he had wanted them to be.

The young King heard his brother sigh and felt him sit on the bed next to him. Edmund looked up slowly, facing the concerned eyes of his brother. The two fidgeted in silence for a moment before Peter finally answered.

"You've been running yourself nearly to death with all of this, Edmund. Your sisters and I-"

"All of _what_?" The Just King cut him off mid-sentence.

"All of _this_." Peter motioned around the cluttered room with one hand. "All of your studying, memorizing, and note-taking. You can't learn all of Narnia's laws in a day, Edmund, and the more you try, the harder it is going to be for you to keep up everyday things. It's effecting you enough that even the chambermaid is getting worried, not to mention Oreius, the Court, and your sisters."

Edmund couldn't bear to look at his brother. In truth, he had expected this lecture for quite some time. He just hadn't expected his brother to be so _sentimental _about it. He had expected yelling, pacing, exasperated sighs, and perhaps a frustrated "Edmund!" here or there. Peter's lectures had always been like that. But not this one. The High King's voice didn't rise in the slightest. In fact, it sounded rather concerned.

"Do _you_ see what you are doing to yourself?" Peter continued after a short pause.

The younger King simply shrugged. In truth, he hadn't been paying attention enough to notice a change in himself. Now that he really focused on the matter, however, he saw he had given his brother a good reason to be so upset. He hadn't been eating as much as usual because he had been too wrapped up in his studies to feel hungry. He hadn't spoken often because, again, he was too busy working and thinking to do so. But what he figured had scared Peter the most was the look he had seen in his eyes whenever he looked in the mirror. They were dull from long days and nights staring at scrolls filled with nothing but law. Slight bags had begun to gather, accenting his already pale features. He had looked distant, absorbed in his work. Everything he had been learning was trying to make room for itself in his brain and had shoved everything, including emotions, out of the way.

"I'm sorry, Peter," Edmund whispered. "I didn't know."

Again Peter sighed, and Edmund mimicked the sound. The two sat in silence, the elder twiddling his thumbs and the younger looking around his messy room. Tomes, scrolls, and loose sheets of paper were everywhere. He didn't know how he made it three steps without having to dodge one of the large books or risk crumpling the aged leafs. Edmund, without realizing he had, took a deep breath and let it out shakily. He was still exhausted from that night's reading which had carried him later into the morning than usual.

"Come on." The Magnificent King stood up off of the bed abruptly.

Edmund followed him with his eyes. "Come on…where?"

"Let's clean this place up. I've let you live in a library long enough."

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**Author's Note: **Awful ending, awful length. I'm terribly sorry. I made the mistake of writing the next chapter before this one, and wasted my muse before I could get all of this in a decent length. But, after I post the next chapter, I think you'll find a good reason to excuse this chapter's length.

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	4. Too Much

**Author's Note: **This chapter and the next chapter are going to be connected. This one will be from Peter's point of view, and the next will be from Edmund's. Just a heads up, though. These next chapters, children, are why this fic is rated T. There will be gore and there will be violence. You have been warned. :3

**Summary: **It is five years to the day since the Pevensies became the Kings and Queens of Narnia. Rather than celebrate like they normally do, however, Peter and Edmund head out to defend their kingdom against a clan of Ogres. Let the fireworks begin.

**Disclaimer: **I hate these. I really do.

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**033. Too Much**

My body moved with the flowing gait of the stallion beneath me as my brother and I led a small band of troops toward the Narnian border. The dawn was barely breaking on the new day, the shimmering rays bathing the clearing and my men in an ethereal glow. Had we been on any other mission, Edmund and I would have reveled in the moment together. On any other day we would have spoken of the beauty of what was around us, the astounding way the sun could mix light with dark to create such stunning patterns upon the spring crops. On any other day but today. Today we were called out to battle. Today we had no time for little moments such as those. Today, we were poised to kill.

Heading to battle was not an uncommon journey for us. Together, Edmund and I had fought many an uprising against our reign. Over the course of the past five years we had seen bloodshed that few saw in their lifetimes, and us only children. We had grown used to being called upon in a moment's notice about some sort of disturbance. Usually it was a simple group of Fell Beasts we had yet to round up, or a few Calormenes looking for trouble. Thrice our borders had been breached by Harfanger Giants, each clan with their own reasons for entering our domain. With each break of our borders their numbers had grown smaller, until the last raid had only four Giants wishing to have my sisters, brother, and me as the main course of their Autumn Feast. That had been two years ago. But today - the fifth anniversary of our coronation as it was - Edmund and I were headed to battle a number of Ogres.

The information we had been given was sketchy at best. A pair of Squirrels and a small gaggle of Geese had spotted the creatures crossing their border into our own land. They had not seen how many there were, nor of what size or if they carried weapons. All they had thought to do was send word immediately that they had come, battle-ready or not. And so, as we had been instructed to do since our first moments as rulers, we headed out with the worst and best in mind. If they were here to cause a skirmish, they would be met with brute force and swift defeat, or so we planned. If they had arrived on accident or with a good will, we would hear them out and treat them as though little wrong had been done.

Knowing the Ogres, I doubted it was the latter.

I turned my head to face my brother, neither of us the best of morning men. He was far better at rising than I, I must admit. Perhaps it was his young age that gave him so much energy in the morning, or his simple drive to make something good of his day. Whatever the reason, he was always able to awake with a smile.

He spotted my glance almost as soon as I had looked at him. He turned his head to face my own, that brave expression of his well in place. He smiled slightly, telling me without words that all would be well. I returned the gesture readily, hoping above hope that he would be right. After a few moments of simply staring at each other, we were forced to look ahead and watch our path. I couldn't help but give another sidelong look at my brother. His dark hair had grown and it bounced gently with every step his Horse took. He sat tall in the saddle, his arms well placed and legs perfectly positioned in the stirrups. Even if his crown had not been donned upon his head, it would be obvious to one that he was a King, or at least someone of high standard. I was proud of my brother, and he proved to me every day that my pride was not misplaced.

"Sire," A voice interrupted my reverie. "We are approaching where the Ogres were last seen."

"Thank you, Oreius." I nodded to my Centaur General and slowed my horse. Edmund followed suit, though he had not needed to pull on his reins. Phillip, his mount, knew simply by his thoughts, it seemed, when it was time to change pace.

"Shall we stick to the East then, brother?" Edmund asked, though the answer was obvious. We had gone over the plan several times before heading out, and twice on the two-day journey here.

"Stay to the East and reach them from the side." I assured him with a nod and a smile.

"Very good, Sire." With our plans at last having the chance to be put into action, Oreius moved back to join his troops and keep their pace and spirits high.

When we were once again the only two at the head of the line, Edmund cast me his battle-ready smirk. I gave him a small, excited grin in return. We were ready. Nearly at the same moment, I with a cluck and Edmund with naught a sound, our horses took off at a straight canter. The three-beated drumming of their hooves was comforting in a way, my thoughts keeping time with their pace. It was only moments later that we heard the unmistakable grunts, groans, and crashes that signaled the Ogre's location. They were just ahead of us, to the East as the Talking Animals had informed us, and by the sound of them, there were plenty to go around.

Phillip and my mount Lyst carried us swiftly through a thicket, bringing us into a clearing of sorts. This clearing was no creation of nature, however. Trees in a fifty-yard-wide line had been utterly demolished, knocked over by Ogre clubs. And the instant we broke into the expanse, those clubs were turned on us.

I looked up at the creature closest to me. His skin was a strange pink color, nearing the tint of purple. His eyes were small in comparison to his skull and sunken into the eye sockets to the point of barely being noticeable. A few jagged, yellow teeth jutted out of his mouth and tight against his lips like that of an alligator's. He was nearly eight feet tall and, by the looks of things, one of the smaller ones. He was downright hideous.

For a moment he stared at my brother and me in shocked wonder. Apparently they had not expected their presence to be noticed. He let loose a loud growl, and all at once, the remaining Ogres looked our way. I couldn't help but gulp as I counted them. Twenty one. There were twenty one Ogres, and none looked like they were in a very welcoming mood.

"State your business, Ogre." I heard my brother call to the giant. His tone was that of a diplomat, which at the moment he very well could have been. Unfortunately for the both of us, there was nothing diplomatic about the situation.

"Man flesh." Was the creature's simple reply, and with that, the world was chaos.

At the confirmation of just what was standing before them, the Ogres that had been closest to us charged. They raised their clubs eagerly, almost hungrily. The one nearest to us swung his weapon, hitting a tree just to my right as I ducked. I immediately drew Rhindon from its sheath, Edmund and I calling out the battle cry we had screamed so many a time.

"NARNIA!"

We charged forward, our garrison of troops right behind us. My brother and I dove into the centre of the gale, defending ourselves as best as we could from their heavy clubs. The thundering pound of falling Ogres echoed through the wood, sending new spring leaves raining from their branches. My black stallion reared beneath me when the foot of a creature landed too close for comfort. I slid off of his back with the sudden movement, landing on my left shoulder. Ignoring the dull pain, I stood up as swiftly as I could and grabbed a hold of Lyst's reins. He screamed in fright but did not run, the brave horse. When once again the Ogre came too near to us he reared and pounded his hooves into the misshapen giant's knee. I heard the bone break with the sharp force of my stallion, and the beast's leg gave. Favoring it, he stood up straight and took a swing at me. I managed to duck just low enough to avoid being crushed, immediately returning the attack with one of my own. I felt metal meet bone as Rhindon bit into the Ogre's leg. The beast howled in pain, once again swinging his weapon at me clumsily. With the adrenaline-fueled cries of my horse encouraging me, I once again dug into the monster with my sword. This time I sliced open his side, bodily fluid spilling out of him. He dropped his club and clutched his wound, falling to the floor with a groan. I rushed as close to his head as I dared go and thrust my sword straight through his neck. Not a full second later the creature was still and I was engaged in battle once again.

Like the creature before him, this Ogre relied simply on brute strength. He swung his heavy club swiftly, ignoring strategy and relying simply on luck. As he missed time and time again, and as I got in strike after strike, he grew frustrated. I was like the horsefly to his horse. No matter how much he tried to destroy me with one hit, I kept finding ways to avoid him and get in my next bite. As he grew more frustrated he grew more reckless. At one point a smaller Ogre had made his way to help out his comrade only to be met with a blow to the head that had been meant for me. The younger beast collapsed to the ground, dead upon strike. With a roar, the Ogre swung his club the hardest he had as of yet. I ducked, but not low enough. His wooden club struck me in the head, flinging me a few feet and knocking me silly. As I struggled to sit up, I saw him marching toward me, a sick grin on his face. I thought I heard someone scream my name, but the world was too hazy for me to use any of my senses properly.

When I thought the Ogre had come within my reach, I thrust Rhindon straight ahead. It dug into flesh as I had hoped, but not as deeply as I had thought it would. The monster howled in pain and raised his club above my head, ready to squash me. I rolled out of the way, able to get several feet's distance between me and where the weapon had landed. I barely had time to register that the monster was raising his bludgeon again before I felt the sharp pain of my leg being crushed. I screamed in agony, instinctively dragging the wounded limb to my chest. I looked up through bleary eyes as once again the brown mass was raised above my head. Sure that I was about to die, I flinched and awaited the blow.

It never came. Instead, I heard the Ogre roar in anger and pain. I turned my head to see what was happening, but my concussion was far too severe and the sting in my leg far too great to make anything out. I rubbed my eyes fruitlessly, trying as hard as I could to see what was going on. I regained enough of my sight to see my brother engaged in battle with the creature that had very nearly killed me. I heard more than saw the fall of the beast as my sibling stabbed it through the stomach.

Too tired to hold my head up any longer, I sunk back to the ground and waited for my brother to find me. I was not disappointed when, seconds later, he was by my side and asking me a question. I could only groan an answer, which didn't seem to please him much. He called for someone, who I couldn't tell. I heard the thundering crash of an Ogre and Edmund turned to look behind him, terror in his eyes. I tried to ask him what was wrong but he did not answer. I raised my head, instantly spotting what had frightened him so. The largest of the Ogres, the leader I assumed, was marching right toward us.

Edmund stood up, spreading his legs to protect me. I saw him raise his sword in defense, the look in his eyes unmistakable. The Ogre was his to kill. He would win this confrontation or die on my behalf. He was offering me too much. He was offering me his life.

"Ed…" I croaked as I struggled to sit up. I saw his tunic was covered with blood, and wondered why I hadn't noticed it before. He was injured. There was no way he could take the Ogre all on his own with a hope of winning.

My brother did not reply. I'm not sure if he even heard me. As the monster broke into a run, Edmund braced himself and practically roared as he swung his sword at the creature. I saw deep red blood flow from the wound my brother had inflicted upon the creature's leg, but it was not deep enough to cause him to slow. The monster rushed forward with a vengeance, laying all of his anger and adrenaline into a single swing. I saw the club come down, heard my brother scream, felt the agonizing pain of being struck, and I knew no more.

* * *

When I awoke, the light had changed from sunrise to twilight. I tried to sit up, groaning and collapsing in pain at the attempt. I held my head gingerly and felt a bandage wrapped securely across my cranium. My eyes grew wide as I tried to adjust to the light. I didn't know where I was, and I couldn't remember what had happened. Once again I tried to sit up, and once again the agony drove me to lie down. I gasped at the sharpness of the pain, alerting someone nearby.

"General, he is wakening." Their voice said softly. Their tone was grating, and I clutched my head tightly in a foolish attempt to block out the pain.

I heard a curtain flap being pulled back, and when I looked up, I was met with the faces of a Faun and a Centaur looking down on me. I gasped in surprise, holding my head and trying to scoot away from them.

"Sire," The Centaur began, but my wincing stopped him in his tracks.

"Lower." I whispered, holding my head.

"Sire," He repeated, whispering. "You have been injured. Your sisters are on their way with Queen Lucy's cordial and should arrive within the hour."

Injured? My sisters? Cordial? What on earth was he talking about? I peaked up at him with one eye, giving him as quizzical a look as I could manage while in such agony. He tilted his head slightly before understanding, and took it upon himself to answer my unasked questions.

"You were mortally wounded in a battle against Ogres." He explained, keeping the level of his voice down. "Your leg was shattered, you suffered a severe concussion, your left shoulder was crushed, and you dropped a lung. Our healers managed to set the shoulder and mend the lung, but the blood loss alone was enough to kill you, not to mention the concussion and swelling of your leg. You are still in danger, I'm afraid. But your sisters are coming, you needn't worry." At this, the soldier placed a gentle hand on my right shoulder, luckily the one part of my body that didn't hurt.

I tried to sort through what he had said. I remembered some of the battle with the Ogres, and at least a bit of the trip to meet them. But as the memory of the battle went on, it grew fuzzier and fuzzier until it was no more. I pulled my hand away so that I could look at the soldiers with both of my eyes. The concern was unmistakable. I struggled to remember more, wondering what it was they weren't telling me. If I was going to be okay, then what could possibly-

As realization swept over me, I shot up to a sitting position, ignoring the pain that ravaged my body. Edmund. He had been in the battle. He had been wounded. He had fought to protect me, to save me. And _he __**wasn't HERE**_.

"EDMUND! No! Edmund! Please Aslan! NO! _EDMUND_!" I screamed in terror, struggling to get out of my mat-turned-bed. The Centaur and Faun held me down as best they could without injuring me further, but I struggled with them nonetheless. I continued to scream my brother's name as I fought, with the pain simply a footnote in the back of my mind. I had killed my brother. I had let him fight for me when neither of us were well enough for it. I had let him take the hit. I had let him die. He had given me too much. He had given me his life.

As I screamed, I could vaguely feel strong hands grab a hold of my good shoulder and thrust me downward. I smelled the homely scent of dirt and roots, and as I began to fade into darkness, my cries grew softer and softer until they were no more.

* * *

When I awoke once more, my body no longer ached. I could breathe properly, and my head didn't feel like someone had driven a rock into my brain and sewn it shut. I glanced at my surroundings cautiously, careful not to jar any of my previously-wounded body parts. I saw that I was in a small tent with three occupied sleeping mats. Due to the crushing darkness, I could only make out the form closest to me. Lucy slept in a tight ball, clutching her cordial for all she was worth. Her hair, far longer than it had been when we first arrived in Narnia, cascaded over her face and shoulders in a tangled mess. With one finger I stroked what I could out of her eyes, but gave up soon enough. Most of her hair had been pinned between her arms, folded beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. I watched sadly as she sighed deeply and rolled over, mumbling something in her sleep.

I tried to peer through the night to see who else was in the tent, but to no avail. I was sure one was Susan, and as soon as the name Edmund popped into my head for who the second person could be, I began to cry. Not loudly, but a silent, suffering lament. I didn't want to wake the girls. They would have a hard enough time without watching their eldest brother break before them. I rolled onto my stomach and wept bitterly, telling myself it was my fault he was gone.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but at one point in the night I heard rustling in the tent. I dared not look up to see who or what it was for fear of losing my temper with them. They had no right to take Edmund's place, but I guessed I had no right to say who did. After all, the fault for the empty mat belonged to me in the first place.

As the noise drew nearer, I turned my head into my pillow in an attempt to feign sleep. It was a hopeless attempt, I was well aware, but it was one nonetheless. Whoever was moving about did not need to know I was crying, and it would be rather awkward if they found out. As the noise came closer still over the next moment or so, I bit my lip. It was not only to keep myself from crying, but to keep myself from lashing out as well. If they took just a few steps closer to me, I did not know what I would do.

When I felt a hand on my back, however, I found out.

I jerked as though I had been shocked, and in a way, I had. I rolled over sharply and glared at the shadow standing above me. I shoved their hand away roughly, a growl rising in my throat.

"Don't you dare touch me." I hissed at them. I clenched my fists, resisting the powerful urge to punch them for having such audacity as to think it right and proper to make such a motion.

"Peter…" The whisper was almost lost in the silence, so quiet the voice was.

"You would be wise to refer to me as King Peter." I said, my voice deep and threatening. They were pushing their luck to the point that I was beginning to think they were suicidal.

The shadow said nothing, merely sat at the foot of my mat and drew their knees close to their body. I stared the shadow down as I gritted my teeth against words I so desperately wished to say. As I watched the now-unmoving mass, my peripheral vision took in the shape of its silhouette. The only creatures that were with us that could have such a figure besides my sisters were the Satyrs, and even they didn't fit well with the shadow at all.

"I'm sorry." The voice said, once again at a whisper so soft I could hardly catch it.

"If you were so sorry you would-" I stopped mid sentence, staring with wide eyes at the shape. Though it was too dark to tell, I was sure I had gone pale.

"…Peter?" The voice was a bit louder this time and it made my mind reel. "Peter, are you alright? Peter? Peter!" As they spoke, the shadow's tone grew louder and louder until he had roused my sisters. As the moments passed the darkness became deeper, and I struggled to keep from fainting. I felt a pair of wide, strong hands grip my back and shoulder and slowly lower me to the floor. I did not protest; I was far too weak for such things now.

"Bloody hell, Peter. Would you answer me?" With that single sentence, my deepest hope was realized.

"Edmund!" I gasped his name, barely able to get it past my blubbering lips. As I flung myself into his arms, I nearly screamed with sobs. He held me gently, stroking my back and saying nothing as I nearly cracked his ribs with my strong hug. I kissed his head repeatedly, running my fingers through his hair and clutching his clothing with all the strength I had left.

"Oh Peter. It's alright now, Peter. We're okay. Oh Peter." My brother chanted the phrases repeatedly, his voice soothing and quite possibly the most beautiful thing I had ever heard or would ever hear. I continued to weep and fuss over him for a long while until at last my strength drained from me entirely and I fell asleep against his shoulder.

* * *

The sun was out when I awoke once more. I winced against its brightness and tried to shield my eyes with my hand. When I tried to raise the appendage, however, it was held down by something. Doing my best to adjust to the daylight, I glanced down at my hands. A pair of pale, somewhat-smaller hands covered them. They were moving, and, I realized, so was I. I looked up slowly, taking in my surroundings. Lucy and Susan were riding their favorite mares with Phillip walking riderless between Lucy and me.

"Well, good morning!" A voice behind me said. I jerked around in my seat, my saddle, to see who was behind me.

"Edmund!" I whispered, struggling to keep my composure.

My little brother smiled at me as he reined our horse in and dismounted. "This poor creature has had to carry both of our carcasses for the past hour. You're lucky I'm so small, or else you would have had to ride on your own. And we all know you can't keep your balance worth a blade of grass when you're asleep. We could _tie _you to the saddle and you would find a way to fall off."

I smiled softly, but the expression didn't reach my eyes. Edmund looked me over worriedly and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the girls.

"Peter!" The two of them cried in unison. Together they made quite a show of fussing over me. They spoke all at once, making it nearly impossible to hear a word they were saying. Every few moments I would be able to catch a 'so worried' here, and a 'quite a fright' there. Certainly nothing I didn't expect from them. But did they have to fiddle with my hair, clothes, and reputation in front of the soldiers? After indulging the Queens for a few moments by letting them indulge me, I finally shooed their prying hands away.

"Must you fuss over poor Peter so?" Edmund spoke up for me, smirking.

"But of course! He hasn't even had his hair brushed in nearly a week!" Susan protested, reaching to comb her fingers through my hair.

"And that's different from any other week how?" My brother raised a mischievous eyebrow.

"Oh hush, Edmund." I spoke up, though my voice was still rather soft.

"Look who just woke up." Ed beamed as he slipped his left foot into Phillip's stirrup.

"Well it _is _about time, after all." Lucy agreed with Edmund. "You've barely been awake at all these past few days, and when we thought you were, it always turned out to be nightmares."

After speaking with my siblings for a few more minutes, our troop set off for the Cair once more. I wanted to badly to speak with Edmund alone, to scold him for doing what he did and to kiss him for surviving. But it was another two days before he and I had a moment alone with each other. But at last we reached Cair Paravel and the two of us were sent off to bed immediately. We walked down our shared hallway and made a show of entering our own rooms. Once we were sure we were alone, however, Edmund crept into my room and sat on my bed.

"Peter…" He started, but I cut him off.

"Edmund, why would you do such a thing?" I demanded, though keeping the level of my voice in check.

"He was going to kill you, Peter! Why wouldn't I?" My brother responded with the exact same volume as I had possessed.

"Better me than you, or both of us." I said, my eyes flaming and my voice softer.

"Don't say that. You know it's not true. You're the High King-"

"And you're my brother. You are more important than anything."

"You are my brother as well, Peter. Doesn't that give me the right to protect you as you would me?"

"You're my younger brother. I'm supposed to be the one looking out for you. Not the other way around."

"Oh come off it." Edmund groaned. "I've saved your sorry butt plenty of times."

"And each time it's the same argument." I agreed.

"And who always wins those arguments?" The gleam in Edmund's eyes was comforting, though damning.

"You do." I muttered.

"Who? I can't hear you, Peter." His smile, though hard to see in the darkness, was evident in his words.

"I said you do!" I laughed, tackling him. We crashed to the floor in a heap of boys and blankets, not caring in the slightest who heard. Playful shouts were exchanged from both sides as we tussled. If I couldn't win our verbal fights, perhaps I could win this one. But, as he pinned my arm behind my back and sat on my shoulders, I knew there was no hope for that, either. I was still weak from sleeping so much, as well as from the hopeless misery I had suffered, giving him the upper hand.

"Fine, you win this round, Pevensie." I threatened with a smile.

"This round? Tut, Peter. I think you mean the match." Edmund laughed loudly.

"But Edmund…" I trailed off, not exactly sure how to word what I wanted to say. I shoved him off of me gently enough and sat back on the balls of my feet.

"Yes, Peter?" He pressed, mimicking my position.

I struggled to keep my composure as I answered. "What you did…it's too much. Your life is too much to give, just for me. It's just too much."

**

* * *

**

Author's Note:

Why can I never be satisfied with my endings? Ah well…what is one to do about such things? I promise the next chapter's ending will make more sense, however. It will end with Edmund's response, for obvious reasons. Anyway, reviews are appreciated and very welcome, especially critiques. If you feel you must flame, keep them polite and sensible, or don't write them at all. 


	5. Not Enough

**Author's Note: **This chapter is connected to the previous one in that it is from Edmund's point of view. Other than that, I think I covered everything that you need to know in the previous chapter.

**Summary: **It is five years to the day since the Pevensies became the Kings and Queens of Narnia. Rather than celebrate like they normally do, however, Peter and Edmund head out to defend their kingdom against a clan of Ogres. Let the fireworks begin.

**Disclaimer: **The only thing I own in this chapter is the healer and Lyst.

* * *

**034. Not Enough**

As the morning sun began to glimmer down on our path, I gave a small sigh. It was barely dawn and yet my brother, a troupe of two dozen soldiers, and I were marching deep into the Western Wood. We were headed on an easterly course to find a group of Ogres that we had been warned about some two days ago. The order had come straight to me, which was rather alarming in its own way. Usually a matter of importance was presented in Court before all four rulers. But the Squirrels and flock of Geese that had rushed upon Narnia, in their haste, cared only about letting _someone _know. Never mind the proper process with which to go about such things.

The Squirrels had begun their chattering almost as soon as I was in sight. Loud as their voices may be, however, I wasn't able to hear them and so asked them to repeat, calmly, what they had said before. Apparently "calmly" does not appear in the Squirrel Dictionary. The two once again spoke as if they would perish if they did not get everything out in ten seconds or less. I waited as patiently as I could and once they had seemed quite finished, I turned to the accompanying Geese for a translation.

"What they mean to say, Majesty," The lead Goose bowed his head to me as he spoke. "Is that we spotted a clan of Ogres crossing through the Western Wood. They are causing quite the ruckus, and we came as quickly as we could to alert you."

"So I see." I said politely, giving a sidelong glance at the panting Squirrels. "Did you see how many have crossed our borders?"

"I apologize, Sire, but we did not." The Goose admitted sheepishly.

"Could you tell if they were armed?" I tried to ask the questions as gently and regally as I could.

"No, Sire."

"Were you in the position to tell their height?"

"I'm afraid not."

I ended my interrogation and chewed my lip as I pondered what little I had been told. Ogres were not the smartest creatures known to Narnians, nor were they praised for any sort of kindness to our citizens. But since Jadis had been defeated, I and my siblings had not had a chance to interact with the creatures, and so were forced to trust in what we were told and what we read. The closest things we had to compare them to were the Giants, and there were at least three types of those that I had encountered. The Archenlander Giants were a friendly sort, loyal to their rulers and kind enough. There were our own Narnian Giants, and though not the brightest pennies in the piggy bank, they had their hearts in the right place. And then there were the Harfanger Giants. They were a cruel species, far too intelligent for their own good. They had entered our land on numerous occasions on their hunts. Thrice they had crossed our borders intent on war. The most recent attack had been to capture my siblings and me for their Autumn Feast. It had been an awful battle and left the lot of us injured in more ways than one.

As I recalled the memory I felt a pair of eyes focus on me. I turned my head to face my brother and smiled. Though he sat in his saddle and looked as a knight wide awake and ready for battle, his eyes told a different story. He was exhausted, having gotten far less sleep than he should have the night before. Both of us were antsy about the coming confrontation, he more so than I. He had always been one to fret more than was necessary, especially if his younger siblings were involved. Before we had left the Cair he had asked me to stay home and take care of the girls, as he did before every venture. I responded as I had every time before. With a solid but gentle "no". He wasn't going to leave me behind, and we both knew it.

My smile brightened as Peter grinned back at me, his golden crown glistening in the dawn. We had faith in each other, and no matter how the meeting with the Ogres might end, we knew that would be enough to keep going. We stared at each other for a moment, lost in the pride of the other, before turning back to the path. The clearing we had passed through was beginning to narrow and if we were to avoid low-hanging branches, we would have to look ahead more than we looked to the side.

I scanned the Trees before us, gazing up at the budding flowers that donned their branches. Dogwoods, Cherry Trees, and young Oaks lined the edge of the Wood. Though the Dryads had not come to greet us, I knew they were there. It was still early yet, and most of the Dryads were young, too young to be rising at this time of the morning. As I looked on from Phillip's back, I heard Oreius' hooves approaching my brother and myself.

"Sire," He spoke up, saying neither Peter's nor my name, the surest way to get both of our attentions directed at him. "We are approaching where the Ogres were last seen."

"Thank you, Oreius." Peter replied with a regal nod. As he reigned in his stallion I felt Phillip slow beneath me. He had always had a keen eye for what happened around him, especially movements that the High King's mounts made. I rarely had to give my Horse a command, and when I did, it was often a simple reassurance to myself that he knew what he was doing.

"Shall we stick to the East then, brother?" I asked. I knew he would say yes, of course. We had gone over the plan and maps enough times that I could probably draw it out with my eyes closed if asked. But Peter oft changed his mind about matters and sometimes forgot to mention it to me. Not out of rudeness, of course, but out of honest forgetfulness. And so I had found over the years that it was always best to go over a plan as much as possible, right up to the moment it was executed.

"Stay to the East and reach them from the side." Peter confirmed, giving me a proud smile and a nod of his head.

"Very good, Sire." Oreius spoke up before I could return my brother's gesture. He trotted back to our troupes, leaving my brother and me alone once more.

I turned to look at Peter once again, giving him the smirk he always seemed to enjoy. His eyes seemed to brighten whenever I made the expression for reasons I never quite understood. But whatever the reason, it lifted his spirits, and so lifted mine. Peter smiled back at me with the adrenaline that was coursing through is veins almost visible against his tan skin. He was ready for battle and so was I. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and at the command, both his stallion and my own burst forth. We leapt over a higher row of bushes that were in our way with ease, landing gracefully on the other side. Through the dense foliage I could hear the "ruckus", as the Goose had put it, that the Ogres were creating. I tossed a quick glance at my brother, and by the expression on his face, it seemed he had heard it as well.

Phillip and Lyst, Peter's mount, skidded to a stop when the thicket suddenly ended. We were faced with a clearing bathed in the rising sun's light far more than it should have been. Shattered remains of trees young and old lay scattered about. It reminded me so much of those fallen in battle, and rightfully so. These trees had been living Trees, each with a Dryad within. Whether they were aware of it or not, these Ogres had murdered our subjects.

The Ogres had apparently heard my brother and me enter their clearing, for when we appeared, most had stopped in their march and turned to look at us. Their small eyes sent chills down my spine. They were horrendous creatures and it made me wonder how they could do anything properly. Their eyes seemed too small to see past their bulging cheeks, their teeth looked too jagged and disorderly to chew anything, and their noses were misshapen to the point of hardly counting as more than tumors on the fronts of their faces.

When the nearest Ogre growled at the humans before him, all who had continued their march halted and turned 'round. They stared at us with gluttonous lust, making me cringe inwardly. Both their numbers and size had me worried, and the looks that reflected in their poor excuses for eyes didn't ease my concern. But looks were not the reason we had come.

"State your business, Ogre." I said to the nearest creature, hoping it was loud enough. I kept my voice level, devoid of any emotion I could spare erasing.

When the monster replied with a simple "man-flesh", I knew my brother's and my chances at peaceful negotiations had just been flung into the Eastern Sea. It took naught but a moment for the rest of the Ogre's clan to lunge at us. Giant wooden clubs were aimed at us. My hand flew to my sword as I had been taught, but I did not draw the steel. Narnia never attacked first, such was the main rule in combat. When a club swung at us and barely missed my brother's head, however, the rule was appeased and my brother and I drew our swords at the same moment and cheered our battle cry.

"NARNIA!"

With that, the races were off. Peter and I flew into the gale, followed swiftly by our soldiers. I did my best to keep an eye on my brother as we battled, but the fight was too intense. We were swamped with hungry beasts and were too busy to pay any sort of attention to what was going on beyond our personal combats. I had to smirk to myself as I took on my first Ogre. Phillip was doing remarkably well with the chaos around him. As the Ogre's club swung over us the first time, he skidded to the right but did nothing more. He did not shy as I had expected him to, nor let out any sort of cry. I could feel him shaking beneath me, but I knew it was more from adrenaline than fear.

As the Ogre took a moment to prepare himself for his next swing, I seized the opportunity and got in an attack of my own. My sword dug into his hip, the skin giving way after much more of a struggle than I had expected. Not only were the beasts thick-headed, it seemed, but they were thick-skinned as well. No matter. Though I had not bitten as deep as I had expected, I was still satisfied with a steady flow of blood and a howl of shock and pain from the monster. He swung heartily at me, catching a stump just to my left before he could land his attack. Splinters of wood showered on Phillip and me, cutting the both of us but doing no damage beyond that.

The Ogre cried out in frustration, taking another whack at me. He missed once more only by the grace of my Horse. Phillip had shied at the sight of the club coming near us, raising us up nearly vertical. The club flew below him, missing his stomach by mere inches. I held onto his mane for dear life, struggling not to fall as I felt the saddle slip beneath me. Just as I was about to let go, however, he came back to the ground with a heavy thud, sending me and the saddle back in our rightful places. I lunged my sword as hard as I could and pierced the Ogre's arm, cutting open a major artery, it seemed. The beast screamed in pain, dropping his club to clutch his wrist. Blood pulsed from his body from the two major wounds, and as he sank to the ground, weakened by blood loss, I drove my sword through his heart. He fell to the ground, his last breath leaving his body before it hit.

Another Ogre ambushed me before I could prepare myself. Once again, if it had not been for Phillip, I would have surely been killed. The beast had come from behind, and before I could make a move toward being ready, he had bucked and struck the monster in its right hand. Phillip spun beneath me, positioning himself so I was facing the Ogre. The being glowered at my stallion with pure hatred as he switched his club from his probably-shattered hand to his good one. With intent more to strike my Horse than myself, the Ogre swung his club clumsily. Phillip reared once again, but unfortunately it wasn't high enough this time. The wooden club caught his right foreleg, sending him to the ground in agony. I slipped off his body with a less-than-graceful maneuver, running around him to strike the Ogre down. Going with the eye-for-an-eye idea, I sliced my blade through his left hand, cutting off three of the fingers cleanly before lodging it in his pinky. As he dropped his club, he bellowed in anguish and swiped at me with his right hand. He hit me square across the back, causing more damage to himself, it seemed, than his intended victim. He wrapped his hands tightly against his chest, groaning in pain. I approached quickly, planning to slice open his neck and end his life. What I had not expected was the blade he drew from within the folds of his clothing. His right hand clutched the weapon gingerly with two fingers. It was a Narnian sword, I noticed with horror. One that had belonged to a Faun, by the looks of it.

With an angry growl, the Ogre jabbed the sword in my direction. I jumped to avoid the strike but was stopped by a tree trunk. I stumbled on the obstacle, giving the monster a chance to hit me. The sword bit into my chain mail viciously, embedding fragments of the metal in my skin. The sting from the sword was startling, but adrenaline prevented me from feeling most of the pain. I felt the blood flow down my side as the Ogre pulled the sword away. Wincing, I swiped my own weapon at his neck as I had intended to do earlier. I hit my mark, surprisingly, killing the creature.

I barely had time to recover, however. I heard the sickening crunch of wood on metal. The sound had been echoing throughout the short confrontation, but this one was closer and followed by a scream far too familiar to me for comfort. I turned sharply and spotted my brother, not twenty yards away. He was flat on the ground, his helmet mutilated and his head bleeding profusely.

"Peter!" I yelled frantically, running toward him.

I watched, horrified, as the Ogre that I assumed had struck my brother raised its club above his head. I screamed again as the club came down, striking the spot where the High King had been. I was somewhat baffled and extremely thankful when I saw Peter's weak form move in the grass several inches away. Once again the Ogre lifted its weapon, ready to send its death strike. I rushed toward him, helpless to defend my brother as the club came down upon him. I heard Peter scream once more as the creature lifted its weapon above my brother for what was sure to be the final time. Praying to Aslan that I hit my mark, I dove at the creature and thrust my sword into its back. It bellowed in surprise, turning to face the little brat who had hit him. His eyes glowed with rage as he took in my small form. He was bleeding from more than half a dozen cuts across the expanse of his body, and inwardly I beamed proudly. Peter had given this thing a run for its money, which was apparent. The beast swung his club at me recklessly, overshooting my small frame by two feet or more. I swung my sword at his body, catching a fold of his clothing rather than flesh. He attempted to strike me again, going for my feet. I leapt when the club approached me, barely clearing the wooden club. Roaring with exertion, I thrust my blade into the center of his stomach, and the beast was no more. Before he could finish his fall to the ground I was by Peter's side.

"Peter, are you alright?" I asked frantically, scanning his body for any other injuries. His leg was bleeding terribly, a fragment of bone jutting from his calf, and his helmet was dented severely. I could only pray his head didn't look the same. When my brother simply groaned and closed his eyes, I panicked.

"Oreius! Oreius, get a healer!" I screamed fruitlessly. I knew our general was engaged in combat somewhere on the field and the healers were more than five minutes' ride from here to keep them safe.

I prepared to call for help once more when a crash cut my plea short. My eyes widened in horror as I turned to look at what was drawing near. An Ogre was headed for us with inhuman speed. He knew we were vulnerable and he was going to take full advantage of the situation. I jumped to my feet, spreading my legs both to brace myself and protect my elder brother. This Ogre was not going to harm Peter if I had anything to say about it. I would die before I would allow such a thing.

As I readied myself for the coming onslaught, I heard my brother shout my name. His voice was slurred and confused, as though he was struggling to remember just who was standing over him. I hated when my brother got concussions. They muddled him for days on end, and it was so hard to see him suffer like that when I knew I couldn't do a thing about it.

As much as it pained me, I was forced to ignore him. The creature fell upon the two of us, and with a scream I barely heard myself make, I swung my saber. Metal met flesh as my sword bit into his leg. Blood cascaded from the wound, speckling the hem of my clothing and turning the ground a sickly black color. The beast roared and swung, every ounce of energy he had left sent into his club. I returned the yell as I returned fire, but it was no use. As my sword bit into his arm, his club crashed on my head and I slipped into darkness.

* * *

I woke with a start, shivering and gasping from exhaustion. Sweat donned my forehead and I felt someone take a cloth to my flesh and wipe away the liquid. I was so cold and yet I could feel the air around me was warm with afternoon light. I shook uncontrollably, trying to roll onto my side and gasping with the effort.

"His fever is growing worse, General." A woman's deep voice spoke.

I struggled to open my eyes and take in my surroundings. Oreius was standing several feet away, the tent flap still fluttering from his entrance. A female Dwarf was at my bedside and had her back to me. I blinked furiously, struggling to adjust to the light.

"King Edmund." Oreius said, terror evident in his eyes but not his words. He had never been one to show much emotion, and sometimes it was frustrating.

"Oh!" The healer jumped back, startled that her charge was awake. She twisted sharply to face me, gently laying a hand on my right shoulder. I tried to sit up, but her hold on me prevented any real movement. I understood why when, as my muscles tensed in the attempt, pain rippled through my body. I groaned weakly, the ache nearly knocking me unconscious once more.

"Be still, young King." The healer whispered, looking me over.

"What happened?" I asked, holding my head. "How's Peter? Is he okay?" My voice was so soft, yet the terror was evident. Had I saved my brother? Or had I failed and survived a blow that killed him?

"Your brother is…mending." The elderly woman told me, her words hesitant and thought out.

I turned to Oreius for conformation. She didn't sound sure of her answer about Peter and that concerned me beyond belief. The Dwarf hadn't assured me one way or the other, dead or alive. For all I knew, my dear brother was "mending" in Aslan's Country.

"He is severely injured, my King," Oreius explained, taking a few steps toward me. "He _is _mending, but not as quickly as he is dying, I am afraid." I gasped, tears springing into my eyes. "Word was sent to your sisters the moment we found you and your brother fallen. Aslan permitting, they should be here within two nights' time."

"Two nights?" I asked, my voice hoarse with fear. "How long have I…?" I couldn't bring myself to finish the question.

"Nearly two days, my Lord." The Centaur informed me. I winced at the revelation. Two days. I had been unconscious and away from my brother for two days. Had he woken up? Was he making himself worse by fretting over me in some nearby tent? Or was he still unconscious? Would _he _wake up soon?

"How am _I _fairing?" I asked quietly. I didn't have much interest in my own wellbeing at the moment, but I had to keep my mind off of the topic of Peter for fear of losing any restraint I had left and bursting out of my tent to seek him out. Oreius took a moment to respond. That was not a good sign.

"You are nearly as damaged as your brother." He finally admitted.

"Nearly?" My voice sounded disappointed, as it should have. That meant I had failed. I really had faired better than Peter, despite my best efforts to protect him. What kind of brother was I?

"Yes, Sire. Your brother suffered a shattered leg, a terribly broken shoulder, a dropped lung, and a severe concussion." As he listed all of Peter's ailments, my eyes grew wide and my skin paled. It sounded awful, and I assumed it was far worse than he let it off to be. "Our healers were able to mend the lung and shoulder, but I'm afraid the loss of blood, the swelling of the leg, and his concussion are weakening him."

"Oh Peter…" I whispered, ignoring the tears that slid down my cheeks.

"You, Majesty-" I cut Oreius off before he could say what had happened to me.

"I don't want to know, General." I said meekly.

"Nonetheless, my Lord, you should be informed. You must not think of yourself as the survivor whilst Peter is the sufferer. You are dying as well." The General spoke quickly, firmly, ignoring any attempt at interruption. My eyes widened once more then slid half-shut when he spoke the last sentence.

"You received a severe cut on your side-"

"I remember that." I whispered. Oreius continued as though I had never spoken.

"You lost far too much blood, and when the Ogre hit you and your brother with his club, you broke a knee, your back, a collar bone, and bled from your ears. On top of all of that, the cut on your side has become infected. Blood poisoning, the healers believe."

I said nothing as he spoke, nor afterward. I stared at my hands quietly, guiltily. Peter and I were both dying, he far faster than I. The girls were running out of time, and if we both died, who would protect them? Who would be there to keep them safe? And who would they give the blame to? Would they blame Peter for letting me come? Unlikely. Lucy had enforced my decision to let me go, giving the same excuse I offered. I was a King, never mind that the Ogres were in my corner of Narnia. No, they wouldn't blame Peter. They would let their anger flow at me. I hadn't gotten there in time to save Peter, and what little I did do just ended up killing the both of us. It was my fault he and I were dying, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"What about Phillip?" I struggled to get the words out.

"His hock and cannon bone were severely damaged, Highness, but he will pull through until your sister arrives." I nodded slightly as the healer spoke, grateful that at least one of us was sure to make it out.

"And how many did we lose?"

"Four, King Edmund." Oreius said. "Two Fauns, a Satyr, and a Centaur."

"You must sleep, Sire." The healer cut off my response to Oreius' statement.

Those words were all I needed. Obeying her orders, I pulled the covers closer around my chest and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

I heard voices. I was engulfed in a pulsing darkness, radiating with pain. I could feel my breathing coming in gasps and my heart fluttered irregularly in my ears. I could barely move and I couldn't make a sound. I tried everything I could to alert the voices I was awake, but nothing happened.

"-not going to make it." I caught the tail end of a sentence and was immediately frightened. Who wasn't going to make it?

I felt someone's warm hand upon my forehead and shivered at their touch. They said nothing, apparently thinking it was the fever I was suffering that made me move, not my wakefulness.

"Oh, Edmund," A female voice whispered. "Lucy! Hurry!"

Little footsteps filled the tent and I felt a hand slip under my head. It tilted my head back somewhat, making my collar bone throb with the effort. I winced with pain, but the groan I was about to make was stopped in my throat when I tasted a warm sweetness. The flavor was all too familiar to me. Lucy was here and she had brought her cordial. I swallowed the droplet of juice, waiting for it to take effect. Slowly but surely the pain began to fade away until the only feeling that was left was the warmth of the tent engulfing me. My eyes fluttered open slowly and I found myself looking into the tear-filled eyes of my sisters.

"Lucy...? Susan…?" I croaked.

"Edmund, we were so frightened!" Lucy gasped, throwing her arms around my neck.

"What's going on? Where's Peter? Did you get to him? Is he healed?" The questions poured from my mouth rapidly enough that even I had trouble understanding what I had said.

"Be calm, little brother." Susan said softly, giving me a sad smile. "Peter is resting." Like the healer, her words sounded hesitant.

"Don't lie. Where is he? I want to see him." I tried to sit up but was held down by the firm hands of my sisters.

"You need to rest, Ed." My little sister said firmly but lovingly. "Susan isn't lying. Peter is resting, like you should be."

"Can I at least go see him? Please?" I hadn't planned on begging, let alone crying. But I found myself doing both as I looked upon my sisters.

Susan, giving Lucy a sidelong glance, sighed. "Edmund…the healer had to drug him."

"She what?!" I practically screamed, sitting up despite the stronghold the girls had on me.

"Take it easy." My elder sister ordered gently. "He was undoing all they had done to help him, so they had to give him an anesthetic. Mandragora, I think it's called."

"What do you mean, 'undoing'?" I asked cautiously.

"He…he was trying to get to you. They said he kept screaming your name and fighting the healers and two soldiers. He re-broke his shoulder trying to reach you."

Oh, Peter. Stupid, foolish, caring, worried Peter. It was just like him to ignore his own needs and worry only about mine. How frightened he must have been, to throw such a fit that they had to drug him.

"Will he be okay?" I asked tentatively.

"As soon as he awakes he will be fully mended." Lucy told me with a smile.

"Please can I go see him?" The girls sighed when I asked again, but nodded nonetheless. They helped me stand, and after I got my equilibrium back, I walked out of my own tent and into the one they said Peter was in.

He looked so small under the sheets. His features were etched with agony, though why I was not sure. The girls had said he was healed, and he didn't appear to have any untreated injuries. Yet his breathing was hitched and his muscles were tense. I sat on the floor beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the touch, jerking away roughly. For a moment I hoped he had woken up, but his eyes remained closed and his breathing did not change.

"Peter, I'm so sorry." I whispered, stroking his shoulder.

I sat with him for the next hour, but as dusk turned to night the girls entered and asked me to go back to my own tent. When I refused, they pressed harder. It took my fighting back against Oreius to convince them I wasn't going anywhere unless they drugged me too. Resigned, the girls went to their tents and brought back their own mats and blankets. We arranged them on the floor, setting me farthest from Peter. Once again I protested heavily, but their logic was undeniable. If I was placed next to Peter, they reasoned, I would never fall asleep. And sleep was one thing I absolutely had to have at the moment. And so it was my turn to get the short stick in the compromise. I lie down on my mat, grumbling all the way, and fell asleep.

* * *

I awoke hours later, the soft glimmer of dawn barely touching the Eastern horizon. For a moment I lay still, wondering just what had woken me from my slumber. In the darkness, I could hear what sounded something like crying. I swiftly sat upright, struggling to see through the inky blackness. Who was making that noise? I could see the silhouettes of my siblings lying on their mats soundly. Susan, closest to me, was lying on her side with her hands pressed under her cheek. Lucy, though harder to make out, was on her stomach with her arms under her head. And Peter…it was too dark to see Peter clearly, but it seemed he was moving somewhat.

I stood up slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. The grass rustled beneath my feet as I walked toward my brother. I paused for a moment as I saw his head move, pressing his face into his cloth-turned-pillow. I could tell by his movements he was awake, and I wondered why he wouldn't let me know. I took the final steps toward his bed and kneeled down, resting my hand on his back. As I opened my mouth to speak to him, he rolled over quickly and shoved my hand away. It didn't hurt, but it startled me nonetheless.

"Don't you dare touch me." He growled, his voice dripping with venom. He sounded different, hollow. I worried that he had had a bad dream, and I struggled to think of a way to calm him down.

"Peter…" I started. I couldn't think how to finish, though. I wanted to ask if he had had a nightmare, but something told me that it wasn't a dream at all, what he had suffered.

"You would be wise to refer to me as King Peter." He spoke again, his voice full of rage and nothing else. This wasn't my brother. This wasn't the boy I had saved on the battlefield. Something was wrong, and I had a good suspicion as to what. He was either furious at me for what I did, or he didn't think it was me at all. Letting a single tear streak down my face, I sank down at the foot of his bed and hugged my knees to my chest.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, struggling to keep the sorrow from my voice.

"If you were so sorry you would-" Peter cut his sentence off abruptly. I flinched, awaiting what was sure to be a harsh reprimand. But instead, I was met with only silence.

"…Peter?" I asked, a bit louder than I had spoken before. When he didn't reply, I began to grow worried. "Peter, are you alright? Peter? Peter!"

In the dawning light, I could barely make out his pale form. His eyes were wide, and he seemed to be in shock. I jumped up from my position, rousing Lucy who in turn awoke Susan. Sure my brother was about to faint, I wrapped my arms around him before he could fall and hurt himself. I lowered him gently to the ground, glancing at Lucy who had her hand gripping the stopper of her cordial tightly.

"Bloody hell, Peter. Would you answer me?" I demanded, ignoring the angered look Susan gave me. My voice was stricken with fear. He was far too pale for his own good, and his eyes didn't look right.

I could barely make out the "Edmund!" he had mumbled before I found myself engulfed in his arms. He hugged me tightly, sobbing into my shoulder heavily. Susan and Lucy looked on with sad faces as I stroked him. I rubbed his back softly, silently wondering why he was crying so.

"Oh, Peter." I whispered into his ear. "It's alright now. We're okay. Oh, Peter. Peter. We're all safe now." I tried to offer as much comfort as I could as he smothered me with kisses and ran his fingers through my hair. He hadn't thought I was dead, did he? Oh, my poor brother.

As I continued to rub his back, his sobs quieted down until all that was left was deep breathing. I heard Lucy giggle ever so softly and turned to look at the boy, the King, resting on my shoulder. I lifted him up gently and saw that he was asleep. Smiling to myself, I rested my brother on his mat.

"I'm going to stay up with him." I said. My voice must have told the girls that there would be no arguing about this one, for they simply nodded and went back to sleep.

I sat by myself for another hour or so before Peter began to stir once more. I looked down at him, waiting with a worried glance for him to wake up. But rather than open his eyes, he cringed against some unseen force and gasped.

"Peter?" I asked tentatively, resting my hand on his shoulder. "Can you hear me?" My brother jerked upward with a start, screaming bloody murder. He thrashed against my hold and scooted back as close to the corner of the tent as he could get.

"Peter!" I gasped, startled at his behavior. "Peter, you're alright. It's me, Edmund." I reached for him with one hand, but rather than accept it, he flinched away and looked at me with wild eyes.

"Where's Edmund?" He demanded, his words slurred. "I want my brother."

"It's me. I'm right here." I offered gently, still holding my hand out. I stood up slowly and took a step toward Peter.

"I want Edmund! Give me Edmund back!" He screamed.

"Peter!" I heard Lucy behind me. I hadn't realized they had awoken, but sure enough, both Lucy and Susan were standing beside me.

"Peter," Lucy continued. "You're safe. You're at our camp."

The High King's eyes, raging with fright, flicked over each of our faces. He relaxed a bit and I took the opportunity to move swiftly next to him and grab his shoulders gently.

"Look at me," I said calmly, quietly. "You're okay. I'm okay. No one's got me." I wrapped him in a hug and for a moment he remained stiff against my grasp. But as the moments slipped by, he slowly began to relax and once again fall asleep against my shoulder.

"You just love doing that, don't you?" I muttered to his sleeping form.

* * *

Several hours passed, and at midday Peter was still asleep. Five days had passed since the battle and he had barely been awake for more than half a dozen hours. Though I fretted endlessly, the healer told me that the anesthetic they had used was rather potent and would keep him unconscious for at least another day. I sighed at this but said no more.

When I walked back into Peter's tent after I had eaten lunch, I immediately rushed to his side. He was rolling about restlessly under his covers, his muscles tense and his hands crossed to cover his face as though he were being struck.

"Peter!" I yelled, falling to my knees at his side. "Peter, wake up." I shook him gently, struggling to bring him around. As his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me, I breathed a sigh of relief. Before I could do much else, he grabbed his sword that was lying nearby and pointed it at me.

"You killed my brother." He said, terror and wrath evident in his voice.

"What? Peter, it's me. I'm your brother!" I tried to reason with him as he stood, keeping his sword fixed at my neck.

"You killed him." This time, it was more of a question. "I told you to kill me."

My eyes widened as Rhindon drew closer to my neck. "Peter, listen to me. Don't do this. Just…just put the sword down, old chap." I raised my hand to place on his own and help him lower it, but he jerked away before I could touch him.

He simply shook his head, staring at me with frazzled eyes. He took a step toward me, the cold steel of his blade now touching my Adam's apple. I gulped and shook with terror. Who did he think I was? Who was it that was terrorizing him in his dream world? Who was it that he wanted to kill? As the point of the sword began to dig deep enough to draw blood, Susan came into the tent.

"Edmund, it's time to-" Susan cut off, staring in shock at what was going on. "PETER! Peter put the sword down this instant!"

Peter turned to face my elder sister, increasing the pressure against my neck. I gasped softly from the pain. If there was one way to torture someone, it was to kill them slowly, that was for sure.

"Jadis." He quite literally hissed. His lips curled back in a grimace and he crouched a bit on the defense. His sword pressed further into my neck, making the blood flow.

"Jadis?! Oh Peter, please stop!" My brave sister rushed forward and tackled her brother, ignorantly ignoring the blade in his hand. He tore it from my neck and began to move it in her direction, but I grabbed his hand and pulled it away before he could do her harm. She leapt into his free arm and wrapped around his neck, kissing his cheek lightly.

"Peter!" She cried, lifting her feet into the air so her full weight was on him. He dropped his sword and hooked his other arm around our sister, struggling to support her weight in his state. I saw him begin to sink to one knee and linked an arm around his back, steadying him.

"Susan, get off now." I whispered, my throat stinging sharply. My sister obeyed my command and let go, all three of us dropping to the floor in the same instant. Peter was asleep once more before he hit the ground, trapping my arm under him. My free hand flew to my neck and I put pressure on the wound that was now bleeding heavily from the tear Peter had made when he removed the sword.

"Edmund!" Susan gasped, standing up abruptly. She flew out of the tent, arriving moments later with Lucy reaching for her cordial in her belt. She removed it from its pocket and undid the stopper. My little sister knelt down and gave me a drop, and within minutes I was whole once again.

"Don't tell Peter," I said before lying down. "He wouldn't be able to take it."

"Don't worry." Lucy smiled softly. Susan mimicked the expression as she wrapped a blanket around my brother and me.

"You rest, now. We're heading home on the morrow." My black-haired sister whispered just before I fell asleep.

* * *

It was dawn when I awoke. I sat up slowly, looking down at my brother who was still fast asleep. Lucy and Susan were sleeping as well and so, as quietly as I could, I snuck out of the tent and searched for Phillip.

I found Phillip resting under a young Oak tree, his head low in sleep. I sat down in the grass quietly, watching as his chest expanded and contracted with his breathing. I cursed a Horse's good hearing, however, as his ears flicked in my direction and he stirred.

"King Edmund?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"I'm sorry to have woken you, Phillip. Go back to sleep." I said softly, standing to leave.

"No, my King. There is no need to apologize. It is high time I arose anyway." If a Horse could smile, I am sure he would have.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, concern echoing in my voice.

"My King-"

"Please, Phillip. Call me Edmund?" I had asked him many a time to call me by my first name, but he always "forgot". Or so he said.

"If you wish it," He gave in for the moment. "Edmund, your sister gave me the cordial near two days ago. I'm sure you know that I am fine after such a treatment."

"I know, but I can't help but worry." I admitted, walking close enough to stand beside him.

"I know, Edmund. And I am honored that you are concerned for me. How is your brother fairing?"

I sighed listlessly. "I don't know. Lucy's cordial healed him well enough, but he's been having nightmares, Phillip. Bad ones. The healers say it's just from the root they gave him to make him sleep, but it's scary. He keeps thinking I was taken and killed. He was so convinced during the most recent nightmare that he put a sword to my neck." Phillip stared at me calmly for a moment, though I saw a flicker of utter terror and concern in his eye.

"A sword?" He asked, attempting to sound calm and failing miserably.

I nodded solemnly. "Rhindon. His sword. He thought I had killed 'Edmund'."

At this, Phillip nudged my shoulder comfortingly. "Do not worry. If it is just the medicine, he will come around soon. Do you plan on telling him what happened?"

"No, not at all." I shook my head furiously. "He would die if he knew he had harmed me."

The Horse nodded. "That is a wise decision, if it is not too bold to say, my Edmund."

I smiled at Phillip calling me his. It made me feel wanted, and that was certainly something I needed right now. Something uplifting, something from someone as dear to my heart as him. He always knew exactly what to say and exactly when to say it, it seemed. Just like Peter.

"Would you take any offense if I carried Peter on Lyst when we ride out today? Assuming he hasn't woken up, of course. I'm still not sure about your leg. They said it was very bad, and-"

"No offense shall be taken, my Lord. I will do whatever you wish of me, and if that is to wait for your brother to awaken before I carry you, then I shall do so without question. Lyst is a good horse, and one of the few I would trust my Kings on, as it is. He is much larger than I, and so less likely to take a spill with two riders. You will be safer upon his back." Though he said the words carefully and as truthfully as he could, I knew he was a bit offended at my choice.

"I don't think I could be any safer than when I am on you, Phillip. But should Peter have another nightmare and react as he has been, I don't want to risk you re-injuring your leg trying to keep him on your back."

"I appreciate your concern, Edmund." He said honestly. I smiled softly and patted his shoulder, a liberty I dare not take with any other Talking Animal.

* * *

Three hours passed and the troupes were heading out. My siblings, Oreius, and I left first. As I had expected, Peter had not awoken from his drug-induced sleep and so we were forced to double up on his stallion. Had it been anyone else, we may have been able to get by with tying them lightly to the saddle and riding next to them to keep them steady. But with Peter, when he was out, he seemed to lose his center of gravity completely. Nothing could hold him in position, and believe me, I've tried.

We were nearly an hour along on our journey home when I felt my brother stir. His hand fought to rise up from the saddle, but I held it down firmly with my own. I wasn't going to let him let go of the saddle until he was well awake. I smiled softly as Peter turned his head, taking in all that was around him.

"Well, good morning!" I said cheerfully. I laughed when he jumped and turned around sharply to look at me.

"Edmund!" He whispered, sounding on the verge of tears.

I beamed, joyful beyond words that he seemed to finally be coherent. My thoughts rushed to my neck for a split second, wondering if the bite of Peter's sword had left a scar. But, caring more about my brother than my previous injury, I refocused on him. I reined in Lyst gently, hearing everyone else slow down as well. As I dismounted, I laughed at Peter's confused expression.

"This poor creature has had to carry both of our carcasses for the past hour. You're lucky I'm so small, or else you would have had to ride on your own. And we all know you can't keep your balance worth a blade of grass when you're asleep. We could _tie _you to the saddle and you would find a way to fall off."

Peter gave me a weak smile, but something seemed off. I tilted my head and looked him over, wondering what could be wrong. I was about to ask just such a question when the gleeful squeals of my sisters cut me short.

"Peter!" The both of them dismounted their mares eagerly and rushed to him. I chuckled as the two babied him. They tried to fix his hair, adjusted his clothing, and made the general to-do that was to be expected from the both of them. As I saw Peter begin to protest against their reaction, I scolded them for him.

"Must you fuss over poor Peter so?" I asked, trying to keep from laughing.

"But of course! He hasn't even had his hair brushed in nearly a week!" Susan said jollily, once more going to fix Peter's unruly hair.

"And that's different from any other week how?" I demanded light-heartedly.

"Oh hush, Edmund." Peter finally spoke.

"Look who just woke up!" I said brightly as I mounted Phillip.

"Well it _is _about time, after all." Lucy agreed with me. "You've barely been awake at all these past few days, and when we thought you were, it always turned out to be nightmares."

I gave Lucy a warning glance, silently begging her not to bring the situations up. She returned the look with one of her own that all but commanded I not worry. She knew she was treading on thin ice, but she knew how to handle it.

* * *

Over the next two days, Peter grew more and more anxious. We were all eager to get home, of course, but to Peter, we couldn't get there fast enough. I had to admit I felt the same way. There was so much I wanted to ask him, and so much I felt I had to apologize for. And to do any of that, we had to be alone.

At last we reached the Cair. It had been more than a sennight since we had seen her walls and everyone was overjoyed to be back. My brother and I were ushered to bed immediately, and we hardly put up much of a fuss. We were both exhausted and needed to speak with each other anyway.

After we had entered our own rooms and I had changed my clothes in record time, I crossed the hall into Peter's bedroom. He was dressed in his night clothes as well and was sitting at the head of his bed. I walked across the room and sat next to him.

"Peter…" My brother cut me off before I could apologize.

"Edmund, why would you do such a thing?" He all but growled at me. I had been expecting him to be mad, but not clueless.

"He was going to kill you, Peter! Why wouldn't I?" I responded with the exact same volume he had possessed.

"Better me than you, or both of us." Peter said. His eyes burned with regret, and it infuriated me.

"Don't say that. You know it's not true. You're the High King-"

"And you're my brother. You are more important than anything." I hated when he cut me off.

"You are my brother as well, Peter. Doesn't that give me the right to protect you as you would me?"

"You're my younger brother. I'm supposed to be the one looking out for you. Not the other way around."

"Oh come off it." I said, feigning offense. "I've saved your sorry butt plenty of times."

"And each time it's the same argument." He agreed listlessly.

"And who always wins those arguments?" I smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"You do." He whispered, sounding mock-ashamed.

"Who? I can't hear you, Peter." It took all of my energy not to laugh.

"I said you do!" With a burst of laughter, I found Peter flinging himself at me. We tumbled to the ground, dragging the pillows and blankets with us. I completely forgot about everyone else in the Cair and who might hear us as we wrestled each other. I did my best to go easy on him, he still being weak from the drug. But, after I could hold off no longer, I pinned his arm behind his back and sat on his shoulders.

"Fine, you win this round, Pevensie." He smirked as he grumbled his defeat.

"This round? Tut, Peter. I think you mean the match." I burst out laughing but cut my mirth short when he didn't join in.

"But Edmund…" His voice was quiet. He pushed me softly and I got off of his back, watching him closely. As he sat on the balls of his feet, I followed suit and looked at him.

"Yes, Peter?" I pressed him to go on.

"What you did…it's too much. Your life is too much to give, just for me. It's just too much." He sounded near tears as he spoke.

"No, Peter." I sighed, looking down. "It is not enough."

* * *

**Author's Note: **The drug I mentioned, "mandragora", is a plant that was used in medieval times as an anesthetic. The plant contains deliriant hallucinogenic tropane alkaloids, which, in short, means they cause hallucinations. And thus, Peter's vivid nightmares were born.

Sorry about the still-awful ending. At least it's better than last chapter's, yes? As always, read and review. If you feel you must flame, do so in a polite and sensible manner or don't do it at all.


	6. Water

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry for the long wait. School has been crazy, not to mention my personal life. I am currently working on several chapters for this story as well as a few multi-chapter fics, and hopefully I'll be able to write more frequently now that summer is here.

One quick note. This chapter is the beginning of my "Elements Set". It will extend through the next 14 chapters. So, I hope you enjoy this, and brace yourself for a not-so-happy series.

**Disclaimer: **They put the "fan" in "fanfiction" for a reason.

**Summary: **Edmund awakes to find himself aboard a slave ship in the middle of the Eastern Sea.

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**51. Water**

Edmund groaned, turning his head to the side slowly. His entire body screamed in agony. His head throbbed and there was a feeling of a dried crust coating the left side of his face. His shoulders were stiff from being held in a strange position for who knew how long. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly with a rope, wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and then ankles and wrists together behind his back. The rest of his body boasted scattered cuts and bruises, the result of a struggle. When and where that struggle had taken place, as well as against whom, the King couldn't quite remember. He knew it had been a fight for his life, and he knew he hadn't had his sword at the time.

"Supper time." A gruff, sadistic voice broke through the haziness. Edmund's eyes shot open. The teenager had mere moments to take in his surroundings before he felt his binds removed. He was in what appeared to be a ship's hold. Crude bunk beds were nailed into the walls. A person was perched upon each one, two on several bunks. From what Edmund could see, all of the people were young, none older than twenty. All were bound by the wrists, and all looked half starved.

Edmund felt a rough hand roll him onto his side. The cold smoothness of a knife pressed against his wrist before slicing through the thick rope and freeing his hands. The King immediately drew his arms forward, his shoulders cracking uncomfortably at the movement. As soon as his ankles had been freed as well, the boy leapt off of his own bunk. He stared at the person before him, fists clenched and ready to defend him if necessary. The man was tall, towering a good head or more above Edmund. His dark skin and black beard bragged of Calormene heritage. Though not the heaviest man Edmund had ever seen, he was thickly built, and the teenager guessed most of the mass consisted of muscle rather than fat.

"Where am I?" He demanded, though he had a fairly good idea of the answer. The man simply smirked and placed his hands on his hips.

"I command you tell me what I am doing on this ship." Edmund immediately regretted his words, knowing well that Calormene men did not take commandments from Narnians with much enthusiasm.

"Command, eh? And just who do you think you are to command me on my ship, little one?" The smirk had not vanished from the man's face, though his brown eyes had grown much sterner.

Edmund resisted the urge to reveal his title. He was well aware of the hatred Calormenes held toward Narnians and Archenlanders. Their attack on the Archenland kingdom near a year ago had proven that. If this captain was anything at all what he appeared to be, he would have Edmund killed without a thought.

"And so the boy grows silent," The ship captain hissed. He took a few steps toward the Just King, his hands crossing over his chest smugly. The man's eyes narrowed as he inspected Edmund. "A fool's pup if I ever saw one. All bark, but too scared to bite. Certainly not bred to attack, that's for certain."

_If only he knew._ Edmund thought, mentally smirking but keeping his outer appearance stern and unafraid.

"If I'm to get a good price on you, I'll have to hope the women take a liking to your looks. Otherwise, I won't get a half a crescent. You're far too scrawny to do any real manual labor. I'll bet you haven't worked a day in your life. Spoiled Archenlander, you are," The captain spat to the side before taking a step back. "If you want to live another day, boy, I suggest you keep that mouth of yours shut and do what you're told."

Once the man decided he had said everything he needed to say, he spun on his heel and marched out of the cabin. Moments later, several crew members brought the dozen prisoners a meager meal of fish and bread. The small amount of fish was cold and the slice of bread was stale, but it was something. Once everyone had gotten their rations, the crewmen walked out with the same pompous flair as the captain.

As Edmund took his first bite of fish, he noticed a young girl staring at him with wide eyes. She sat across the aisle from him, her brown hair frizzy and eyes weak due to weeks away from home. She looked stunned, shocked, and perhaps a bit awe-struck. With a quick glance around the cabin, the Narnian King noticed that she wasn't the only one giving him such a look.

The young King opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by a flurry of movement. He saw the girl nod to a boy next to her before rushing to kneel next to Edmund. The boy returned with a moist cloth and handed it to the girl, who in turn began dabbing at Edmund's face. He had forgotten about the crusted feeling. When the young woman pulled it away to change corners, he saw it was coated with red. Blood. Edmund winced when she touched the cut on his temple.

"Are you daft?" The girl spoke up, her voice carrying the same horrified and excited tone as her expression had moments before.

"Pardon me?"

"No one has ever spoken to the captain like that. Even Adem here hasn't." The brunette thumbed at the boy who had handed her the cloth. He was a tall man, though not yet eighteen by the look of his face. His toned muscles and slightly tanned skin gave away his farming past, but his eyes held the hue Edmund had seen in so many a wounded warrior. Proud and defiant, but trembling with pain.

"Hush, Lain," Adem said harshly, apparently ashamed by the truth. "I know when to fight and when to be still."

"Even so," The girl, Lain, shrugged. "He's still the first I've seen. What's your name, kid?"

Edmund pondered the question for a moment, turning his gaze to his plate. Dare he speak the truth to them? He did not want the captain to find out he was King, but if _someone _didn't know, he had that much less of a chance of getting home.

"Eamon." Edmund whispered.

"Eamon?" Lain paused in her handiwork, giving Edmund a once over. "It suits you. How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen." The Just King answered, this time honestly.

"You are a kid, aren't you?" Lain smiled softly, tilting her head a bit. "I'm nineteen."

The cabin was silent for a moment as everyone cleaned their plates. Edmund finished his dinner as slowly as he could manage, knowing that it would be more satisfying in the long run.

"So, how were you taken?" The girl spoke up once more, apparently the only one in the room willing to speak. That got the teenager thinking. He remembered bits and pieces of what had happened, but slivers of time were missing.

"I'm not exactly sure." He admitted, wincing again and hissing with pain when she brushed across his wound. "I was out for a ride when-" Edmund stopped short, his eyes widening. Phillip! He had been riding with Phillip when they were ambushed. What had happened to his Stallion?

"Eamon…? Are you alright?" Lain asked, looking at him with concern.

"My Horse! I don't know what happened to him!" Edmund blurted.

"Easy there, kid. Was your horse a stallion?"

"Yes. Phillip." The King looked at the girl.

"And his coloring. Was he a dark horse?"

"No, he was a lighter chestnut." Edmund bent his fingers back one at a time, one of the many nervous habits Peter had been trying to break him of. When Lain's face brightened, however, the teenager stopped and gave her a more intent look.

"I do believe I saw your stallion," She said calmly. "A couple of the crewmen were leading him up the plank just after they carried you on board. He was a feisty thing. He kept trying to bolt and chase after the man that had you. It took seven men to get him into the stable area." Despite his worry over his Horse, Edmund couldn't help but smile.

"That's Phillip for you. He didn't look hurt, did he?"

"He had a pretty good gash on his shoulder and a bit of a limp, but nothing that looked near life-threatening." Edmund looked down in shame. How could he not protect his Horse?

"Don't worry, kid," Adem spoke up. "I can get you in to see him, and without risk of getting in trouble at that," The King's head snapped up, eyes wide. "You just need to keep that temper of yours in check. Another one of those outbursts and Tahj will have your head mounted on a plaque."

"Tahj? Is he the captain?" Edmund asked, his voice a bit harsh. He had heard that name many times before. The man was infamous in Narnia and Archenland. He was a favorite among the slave traders because of his ability to choose good workers and the ease with which he kidnapped them. Few had managed to escape him, and those that had told some frightening tales.

"He is," Adem nodded solemnly. "You've heard stories about him?"

"I have." Edmund returned the nod.

Before the conversation could continue further, the door to the cabin flew open. Prisoners scurried away from the opening, the fright in their eyes unmistakable. Standing in the doorway, casting a long shadow into the room, was the captain. He stepped in and strode down the small aisle, glowering at his young captives. With every few steps he would pause and point to a person. They would stand and nervously walk toward the door, stopping just a few feet away from it. It wasn't long before Tahj reached Edmund, Adem, and Lain. He looked down on them and smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is our pup injured?" He said, his tone half mocking and half caring. "Best clean that up before you head up to the deck. You're raising the sail today."

"Sir, if I may," Edmund looked up when Adem spoke. "I do believe Eamon will do better to work in the stables."

"So, our dog has a name. But Adem," The captain turned to face the boy who in turn stood like a stone, only the slightest hint of fear shimmering in the teenager's eyes. "Since when do you find it appropriate to challenge my word? You've been the most cooperative barbarian yet. I would hate to see that change." Something in Tahj's voice frightened Edmund. His tone was too smooth, too honest. It wasn't right.

"He knows about horses, sir." Edmund could tell that Adem had noticed the off key of the captain's voice as well, and yet he continued. He was either brave, stupid, or both. "I would suggest putting him in the stables. Unless you want your horses mistreated. I'm sure flea-bitten piles of bones would make a good-"

Adem was cut short by a backhand to the face. His hand immediately flew to the offended area, and Lain jumped up in shock. She reached to look at his split lip but was shoved to the floor before she could reach the boy.

"Stay out of this, wench." Tahj hissed. He turned to face Adem who met his gaze evenly.

"I thought you learned your lesson last time, boy. Keep your mouth shut or I will shut it for you."

"Lesson? I thought that was a challenge." Edmund watched on, mentally telling Adem to shut up.

"You'd be wise to learn the difference before you are sold. I would much like to keep you in good condition for the sale, but if I feel I must ruin you, I will not hesitate to do so."

"Duly noted, sir." Adem smirked and sat down next to Edmund.

"You, dog," Tahj turned his glare to the younger teenager. "You'll work the stables today, but if they are not perfect by sundown, you and your 'advisor' will be refused tomorrow's rations. Do you understand?"

Edmund nodded, staring down the captain. He hated being powerless. If he had been on his own turf he would have made quick work of this man. But instead he was trapped on Tahj's boat, surrounded by his men and with no force of his own. Without a decent weapon or backup, he was helpless.

The captain left the cabin in a hurry, every captive near the door filing out behind him. Edmund gave Adem a disheartened-though-grateful look as he stooped down to help Lain. She pushed him away politely before standing up on her own.

"Are you alright?" Edmund asked, still holding out a hand in case she needed it.

"I'm perfectly fine. Now go you fool, before you and Adem are both starved. You're skinny enough as it is." The ebon-haired boy smiled and turned to walk out the door.

"I said I knew when to fight and when to keep still." Adem called after him. Edmund stopped and spun around, finding himself looking at a smirking Archenlander. "That was the time to fight."

Edmund shook his head and smiled, flabbergasted by the farm boy's attitude. He had been right, Edmund knew. He was testing his limits, but he was right. Tahj wasn't afraid to kill, and he certainly wasn't afraid to beat someone into submission. The fact that Adem had survived with only a red cheek and a split lip was testament enough to his claim.

"Go!" Lain commanded, giving him a small smile. Edmund complied and scurried out the door, shutting it behind him. He mounted the steps that led to the deck, freezing at the top stair. He had seen the ocean many times before, but now was different. Land was nowhere in sight. Nothing but the salty blue of the sea surrounded the boat, and Edmund began to panic. If they had been heading to Calormen, they would have gone the way of the river. The banks would have stayed in view, and the air wouldn't be so sticky. Instead, they were drifting across the Eastern Sea.

"What are you doing, boy?" the harsh tone of Tahj broke Edmund out of his thoughts. "You're to be in the stables. Now go!"

The captain grabbed his shoulder and pushed him roughly toward the door that led below deck. Using the momentum, Edmund stumbled to the wooden frame, opened the door, and raced down the stairwell. He was greeted with a few nickers, a stamp of a hoof, and then silence. Darkness engulfed him, the only source of light being a small crack in a covered window at the end of the hall. Edmund felt his way toward it, ripping it open when he got a good grip on it.

"Phillip? Are you in here?" Edmund called hesitantly, scanning the ten stalls. Six horses' heads poked out of the first six stalls, one of them looking all too familiar. Grinning broadly, the King raced down the hallway and engulfed his Stallion's neck in a hug.

"I was worried about you, my King." Phillip said, smiling in a way that only Horses can.

"And I about you." Edmund concurred. "A girl said that you had been limping, and had a cut on your shoulder." The teenager opened the stall door and walked in, looking his friend over for any other injuries.

"A knick from an arrow and nothing more, Sire." The Horse insisted.

"Please, Phillip," Edmund smiled. "Don't call me by a royal title. If not out of simple familiarity then out of caution. They don't know I'm King Edmund here. In fact, they don't know me as Edmund at all. They think my name is Eamon. But that's beside the point. What of your limp?"

"They don't know? Well, they are well aware that I am a Talking Beast, I am ashamed to say. They overheard us speaking in the Wood." Phillip paused, a mischievous glint glazing over his eyes. "My limp, _Eamon_, is of my own doing. One of those beasts tried to tether me, so I reared and landed on his arm. It certainly made him leave me alone after that, but I'm afraid the landing was a bit bad. I will be fine with time, though. But what of you? You look awfully battered. I feel terrible. I shouldn't have let them near you."

"It's my fault, Phillip. You mustn't reserve any guilt for yourself. I should have heard them coming, or at least brought a few of my Guard with me like Peter had said. If there's one thing I'm not looking forward to when we get out of here, it's having to listen to Peter's I-told-you-to-be-careful speech. He seems to build on it every time something goes wrong." At this, Edmund smirked.

"You cannot be blamed," The Horse insisted. "I _am _the one with better hearing-"

"Shall we not get into debating over guilt? What is done is done, and now all we can do it find a way to get away from here when we dock."

"If I may ask, do you know where we are? The rocking of the ship seems far too choppy for river water, and the air isn't as clear as it would be if we were to sail next to a desert. It feels almost salty."

"I think we're headed for the Lone Islands." Edmund said, looking down. "But I can't tell. I didn't see a speck of land. We're surrounded by ocean water."


	7. Fire

**Disclaimer**: The wonderful world of Narnia belongs to C.S. Lewis. I own the minor characters and nothing more.

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**52. Fire**

Edmund collapsed onto his bed, completely exhausted. He had scrubbed and scraped the stables nearly to the point of being sterile and groomed the horses until not a hair was out of place before he had been allowed to leave the musty, dark, claustrophobic hold. It was well past midnight and he hadn't been able to eat all day, but he was far too tired to have any sort of appetite. In the moments just before Edmund fell asleep, he thought he heard someone humming a familiar lullaby, and just for that second he was able to pretend that he was at Cair Paravel rather than aboard a slave ship, which made falling asleep and having good dreams all the easier.

It wasn't a full four hours before Edmund felt himself being jerked harshly by the shoulder. He heard two voices making quite a bit of racket and several soft gasps from startled slaves. He took a deep, steady breath before opening his eyes and sitting up, observing the wakeup call with forced neutrality. He flinched a bit as one person fell to the floor after being shaken too hard. He looked away from the scene only when a tall Calormene blocked his view, forcing a small plate of bread and cheese into his hands. The smell of the cheese hit him like a brick wall. It wasn't that it was spoiled, or even close to it. In fact, it smelled rather fresh and made Edmund realize just how famished he was. He dug into his breakfast, watching out of the corner of his eye as everyone else began to devour theirs as well. He couldn't believe how starved everyone was, how skinny they were allowed to get. He couldn't understand how such poor stock could make so much money on the black market, but then again, he had never seen a slave trade, so maybe, for some sick reason, skinny was what everyone wanted.

Edmund was pulled from his thoughts when he felt someone sit down on his bunk. He looked over and smiled a bit when he saw Lain next to him and Adem standing next to her. Adem looked generally the same way he had before, though a bit dirtier. Lain, on the other hand, didn't. Her wrist was a bit swollen, there was a distinct bruise on her cheek, and she was starting to show what was sure to become a brilliant black eye.

"You weren't in here last night. I was afraid they had killed you," Lain spoke first, softly and carefully. "Where were you?"

"Working in the stables." Edmund looked at her worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"All day?" She ignored his question. "Usually they'll shift workers out. Half in the morning, half in the afternoon. They didn't give you a break at all? Any help?" Edmund shook his head. "You must be exhausted. Did they at least let you eat?" He shook his head again. Lain looked on the verge of tears and he began to worry more. She had been so strong and untouchable yesterday, but now she looked like the exact opposite. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut, turned away, and went back to her breakfast. Edmund looked over at Adem worriedly.

"They worked her hard yesterday," He whispered, watching Lain. "She's used to working in the morning, not in the afternoon heat." Edmund looked back at her and noticed for the first time a red tint to her skin. She had been sunburned, and with the clothes she was wearing, she had to be in pain.

"Don't worry, Lain. If you like, I could trade with you. You can work with the horses and I'll work on deck." Edmund brushed some hair out of her face and gave her the last half of his bread.

Lain said nothing, but instead began to cry quietly. Edmund hugged her gently, doing his best not to touch her sunburn. He jumped a bit when the door flew open, hushing Lain and stroking her hair when he felt her tremble. He watched as half of the captives were chosen for the morning shift and almost sighed with relief when one of the sailors pointed to Lain and Edmund. He lifted her up gently and, with a nod goodbye to Adem, led her out onto the deck where they were forced to part ways.

Once again Edmund spent his entire day working in the stalls, despite Phillip's complaints. Stable work was generally an easy task for someone like Edmund, who spent several hours every morning sparring with a heavy sword and had been in too many grueling battles to count. However, fear of making his friend go without dinner made Edmund work with a ferocity that would break even the strongest and most skilled of stable hands. The stables had never seen brighter, cleaner days, that was for certain, and Edmund couldn't remember the last time he had felt so exhausted, hungry, and utterly defeated.

For over two weeks the cycle repeated itself. Every day or so a new handful of captives were forced on board. The days were brutal and sometimes it became hot enough outside that it would heat the stables to the point of near suffocation. It wasn't uncommon for Edmund to find himself stumbling from heat exhaustion, and once he passed out. The horses were allowed to remain on deck when the heat was bad enough, but Edmund was forced to stay below.

With every day that passed, Edmund grew weaker and skinnier. He was usually far too tired to eat, and when he wasn't, what he was given wasn't nearly enough to sustain him. It was enough to keep most of the captives alive, but because of the hard labor he was put through, there was no way it would be enough for him. Three weeks of the treatment and he would be as good as dead. Lain took care of him every night and tried to explain away the captain's behavior. She had sailed with him twice before, for reasons she refused to explain, and each time he had chosen one specific slave to abuse nearly to the point of death. She didn't know why he did it. She assumed it was to keep the rest in order, but all she really knew was that he waited until a person whom he deemed worthy came aboard rather than picking the first person.

Fifteen days passed before the ship docked for what would be the last time for most of the people on the ship. It took several hours, but by noon all twenty seven captives, Edmund included, had been scrubbed clean, given fresh clothes, and had a decent meal. Edmund knew exactly what was about to happen, and it made his heart sink. They were going to be sold. How was he going to escape, or even be found, if he was sold under a false name? He didn't even look like himself anymore. Even with the bath and clean clothes, he was much skinnier and paler than before.

After everyone was cleaned up, each person was bound to a partner by their wrists and each pair was assigned to a crewman. They were led through the busy streets of the city, jostled about as though they were nothing more than livestock. Edmund tried to think of the name of this city. It was in the Lone Islands and he had visited it with his siblings once before. It was either on the island of Brenn or Redhaven, but beyond that he couldn't remember. It wasn't as though it mattered, of course. He couldn't send out a messenger telling his family where he was.

It took about a quarter of an hour of walking, but eventually the band of not-so-merry souls made it to a large clearing filled with tents and rings, very similar to a festival. Despite their situation, the liveliness of their surroundings lifted the group's spirits at least somewhat. Edmund heard music nearby, a loud, joyous tune that was often sung by the maids and whistled by the cooks at Cair Paravel. Edmund knew the words by heart and simply thinking them to himself made him feel more at ease.

As the group moved forward, and as the music grew louder, Edmund began to look around more frantically. He recognized some of the people as nobles he and his siblings had met on their travels, but none of them seemed to recognize him. The young girl he was tied to seemed to pick up on his edginess. She began to cry, and despite Edmund's efforts, nothing would calm her down again. The crewman in charge of them tried to shush her as well, but his methods, too, were ineffective. Finally fed up, he slapped her across the face and she fell to the ground, pulling Edmund down with her. His shoulder landed sharply on a rock, making him cry out in pain and surprise. The girl jumped at the sudden noise, growing silent and wide eyed as she watched him. Their guard seemed to care much less about him and more about the fact that she had finally shut up. He dragged both of them to their feet and shoved them in the right direction, making them follow the group behind a large platform.

They finally stopped walking, bunching together in what seemed like well-organized chaos. The captain untied the pair closest to him, grabbed one of the people and half lead, half dragged them up onto the stage. Edmund listened quietly as he heard the bidding start, blinking in surprise when they sold for one hundred crescents. He looked around a bit as the next person was put up for display, noticing several other groups of slave traders and their items. The other groups looked in far worse condition than Edmund's, something he didn't think was possible just a few hours ago. He looked around more and tried to gather any useful information he could from his surroundings, tuning out the sounds of the auction to pay better attention to details. He jumped and almost put up a struggle when he felt someone grab his arm and force him in front of the large crowd of bidders. He stared at the audience but couldn't spot a single familiar face.

"Lot number fourteen. Archenlander, approximately sixteen years old. Good with horses, strong and able. Quiet temper. Bidding starts at thirty crescents." Edmund looked over at the auctioneer, a Calormene who looked just as hardened and tough as Tahj. Just as he was about to surrender and listen to himself be sold away, Edmund felt the binds on his wrist be tugged sharply. He stumbled a bit and was given little time to recover before he was led in a large circle in front of the crowd. As he walked, the bidding grew more intense. More than fifteen minutes passed before it ended and Edmund was sold to a rich-looking nobleman for one hundred and fifty crescents. So that was it then. Just a few circles around a ring, and Edmund's life and freedom were gone.

Edmund was led off of the platform and to the side where a number was written on the back of his hand. He was then shuffled over to an enclosed space far too similar to a paddock for liking. The fences were tall and curved inward, so climbing them would be difficult, nigh impossible without getting caught. Edmund paced along the fence nervously, trying to catch sight of any horses, especially his Horse. He hadn't seen any be led off the ship, but he had to hope that Phillip had made it off and would find him. Almost as though he had been heard, the crowd hovering around the pasture parted and the six horses that Edmund had come to know were led inside. One of the horses, a tall chestnut, immediately broke away from the pack. The second Edmund could see him clearly, he burst into a smile and ran for Phillip.

"I was afraid I would never see you again." He whispered, burying his face in Phillip's mane.

The Horse wrapped his neck around Edmund in a hug, pinning the boy to his shoulder tightly. The two stayed like that for what seemed like ages, only parting when Edmund's new owner came to claim him, and even then it was by force. Edmund felt his hand be ripped away from Phillip's side, held for a moment, then jerked on. Phillip nickered frantically as he was pushed away by several men. The two put up a good fight to get back to each other, but it was no use. Edmund was dragged out of the pasture and Phillip was forced to stay. One of the men, the one Edmund recognized as his master, demanded he be quiet or else he would silence him himself. The once-King refused to listen, screaming for Phillip and fighting against everyone who dared lay a hand on him. He ignored the shouts from his new master, and just as it looked like he was about to break free, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head, a sudden explosion of lights, and then everything went dark.

"Quiet temper my ass," Edmund tried to open his eyes, to blink, to move, but nothing worked. A sharp, stabbing pain radiated from the base of his skull, making him want to cry out in agony. "Thirty minutes after I buy the brat and I have to bloody knock him out. Wouldn't even give me any sort of refund." Edmund realized he was moving, and on a very rough road at that. "No, I had to buy the bloody horse, too. Damned thing's as crazy as they come."

"Certainly makes a good cart horse though, wouldn't you say? If not for that cut, he could be a damn show pony." Edmund listened quietly to the conversation between the two men, hoping to learn something about his predicament.

"Probably just because of the brat in the back."

"Just watch his feet and tell me those aren't the lightest steps you've ever seen taken."

"I'll think better of the beast when he performs just as well with a different cargo."

"Suit yourself. Your purchase."

"Another two hundred crescents I'm out of."

"I would have paid five hundred for him."

"Then why don't you buy him off of me?"

"Would have, not will."

Edmund finally managed to get his eyes open, letting out a small groan as he officially came to. He placed a hand tenderly on the sore spot on his head. Fireworks exploded before his vision, making him dizzy and sick to his stomach. He rolled onto his side, pleading to Aslan that he wouldn't throw up.

"Oi, you awake back there?"

How he wished he could say no and mean it. How he wished he could just roll over and die, spare himself the humiliation. "I am…" His voice was barely there and sounded as uneasy as his stomach felt.

"Good. Get up here and do your job."

"Be gentle, Mahir. The boy is probably concussed. Useless, by your terms, until you give him a decent rest."

"Useless my ass. I paid one hundred and fifty crescents for him and I'm going to make damn sure I get it out of him before he keels over on me. Get up here, boy, before I drag you up."

Edmund tried to sit up, but a fresh wave of dizziness found him flat on his back. There was another shout from Mahir, the sound of scuffling, and Edmund found himself being dragged up to the front, just as he had been threatened. The blinding sunlight made him gasp and shield his eyes, which in turn earned a box on the ears.

"Sit straight and pay attention. You'll be driving the cart from now on, so you best learn your way home boy."

Edmund struggled to do as he was told. The first thing he noticed was that Phillip, paired with a beautiful palomino horse, was driving the cart. His ears were laid flat against his skull and Edmund could imagine him muttering to himself about things he would do to the Human hurting his Boy.

The teenager looked down as he felt a set of reins be pushed into his hands. He gripped them as best as he could and tried to sit up straight. For a few moments he thought he was doing pretty well, but after a particularly big bump and a somewhat rough landing, Edmund blinked and found himself nearly hanging off of the cart.

"Lousy good for nothing carcass, this one is."

"I told you, he just needs rest. Unless you like killing your new purchases on the first day, put the boy in the back."

"Fine."

He could only bite his lip in pain as he was shoved back to his resting spot. He had planned on staying awake for the rest of the trip and listening in on Mahir's conversation, but within moments, Edmund found himself unconscious and lost in a dream.

He was at Cair Paravel, running along the beach. Peter, Susan, and Lucy were just coming into view, running for him eagerly. The four met and Edmund was swept up in an onslaught of hugs and kisses. He clung to his brother tightly, at a loss for words. It seemed like decades before the siblings finally gave each other some space.

"You were gone a long time." Peter spoke up, smiling broadly.

"I know, I'm sorry." Edmund smiled as well, though weakly and nervously.

"It's fine, just as long as you're back." Lucy spoke this time and hugged him around the waist.

"Only for a little while, Lu." Edmund kissed her on the forehead, then froze. Wait, what? "Master wants me back within the hour." What was he saying? He wanted to stay with his family. Why couldn't he stay?

"Are you sure you have to go?" Peter frowned.

Edmund found himself nodding against his will. "He threatened to kill me, and he always carries out his threats."

"Well, if you don't care enough about us to die for us, then go back home." Susan spoke up for the first time. She looked oddly cold, and very angry.

"I do care about you. I just thought that you would want me to stay alive so you can save me one day." Edmund bit his lip.

"Why would you think that? You've never given us a reason to care for you," Susan hissed, clenching her fists. Lucy and Peter watched Edmund sadly but said nothing to defend him. "You would have let the whole world burn and watched us dance in front of you in chains and feed you and be your slaves. We would be calling _you_ Master and _you_ would be the one carrying out the death threats if it had been up to you. You don't care about us, and we don't have a reason to care about you. So go ahead. Crawl back to your Master. I'm sure he'll love you if you work hard enough."

"Susan…" Edmund blinked back tears. He opened his mouth to plead for forgiveness, but before he could say a word, her face began to change. It turned chalk white and became more narrow and beautiful and cold, eventually turning into Jadis. Edmund gasped and took a step back, turning to Peter and Lucy. They had been turned to stone.

"It's what you would have wanted if Aslan hadn't gotten in my way and you know it." Jadis crooned sweetly. "This is what you would have wanted." She turned and Edmund followed her gaze, spotting Cair Paravel on the hill. Only it wasn't the way he had always remembered it. Instead, it was completely engulfed in flames and beginning to crumble. "It's exactly what you want."

Edmund had never screamed so much in his life.


	8. Earth

**Disclaimer**: I don't own it, of course.

* * *

**53. Earth**

Edmund awoke with a jerk, gasping for breath. He quickly sat up, looking around frantically for his brother. Everything had been a nightmare. It had to of been. He couldn't have been gone for two weeks. There was no way Peter would ever let that happen. But as Edmund's eyes adjusted to the darkness and he took in the several pairs of eyes that were staring at him, he knew that he was wrong. It hadn't all been a dream. He was now the property of a nobleman on an island far from home, and Peter had no idea where to look.

"What in the devil is going on up there?" Edmund looked over at the door, eyes widening a bit. He heard the other people in the room gasp and hide under their covers, feigning sleep. Taking the initiative, Edmund, too, dove under his covers and tried to pass himself off as fast asleep. However, moments later, he heard the door be thrown open and he couldn't hold back his wince.

"Were you the one making that bloody racket?" The king flinched a bit when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. His body was jerked around so he was staring up at the furious face of Mahir, his new owner. He stared right back and nodded, dreading what the man might do but not letting his fear show. "Do it again and I'll have your head. Get up. You're working the horses today. We'll see just how good you are with them."

Edmund began to sit up, but he was too slow for Mahir's taste, who still had a hold on his shoulder. Mahir dragged him out of bed and threw him to the ground, muttering something about spoiled Archenlanders.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Eamon."

"Not anymore it isn't. I won't have a barbarian name in this household," So the man was a Calormene, or at least partly so. What was he doing living on Narnian territory? "You're name is Emad now. Much more traditional."

Edmund had to hold back a cringe. He didn't want a Calormene name. He wanted this man to know who he was. He wanted this man to know that, with a blink of an eye, he could have a garrison of troops march up to his doorstep and kill him without so much as a second thought. He wanted this man to know that his brother was searching for him, probably desperately, and would kill any person who got in his way or laid one unkind hand on his younger sibling. Unfortunately, Edmund no longer had that army at his command, no longer had that brother to defend him when he needed help. He was trapped with no way out, so all he could say was "Yes sir."

"Well, at least you have some manners. Now get down to the stables. The rest of you, your day is starting early. I expect your chores to be done early as well."

There was a flurry of movement and Edmund found himself lost in a sea of at least eight slaves. One grabbed his arm and led him down the stairs. It wasn't until they got outside into the predawn light that Edmund could get a good look at his guide. It was a young man, roughly four inches taller than Edmund. He was tan and his hair, bleached blonde by the sun, still held hints of its previous dusty brown color. He had sharp hazel eyes and looked as though someone had insulted his most precious belief.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" He growled. His voice was deep and mismatched with his slender build.

"I didn't do anything." Edmund said angrily right back.

"You were screaming loud enough to wake the Tisroc on the other side of the bloody ocean. Of course you were doing something."

"Well excuse me for having a nightmare."

"You always scream in your sleep?"

"No."

"Good."

The rest of the walk to the stables was quiet and tense. Edmund took advantage of the silence, observing his surroundings. The property was large, especially for an island residence. The main house was three stories tall and incredibly grand, even for a nobleman. The stables were equally as extravagant, looking as though they could hold fifty or more horses comfortably, and by the noise coming from inside, they probably did. Pasture after pasture spread across the property, surrounded by dirt roads several acres off in each direction. Despite the vast expanse of space, there was not a soul in sight.

"You'll be tending to the first corridor." Edmund's captor spoke up once again. "Do not venture past there. You will feed the horses every morning and let them out after they've had their fill. Each stallion has his own run. Do not put them together. You must lead the mares and their foals to the far pasture, down toward the house. Once they are settled, you will clean their stalls to perfection. This must be finished by noon. After you are done, you are to tend the gardens behind the house. If you miss a single weed, you won't have dinner, so I suggest being thorough. You are not to go in the house for any reason until nightfall, do you understand?" Edmund nodded, struggling to remember everything he was being told. "Good. The gardens will take you most of the day. After dusk, you are to bring each horse in one at a time and feed them their dinner. You must do this in exactly the order that they are stabled. The horses in the farthest stalls go first, the ones closest to the door last. I hope you can fill in the gaps."

Edmund was pulled into the barn and the pair made a sharp turn to the right. More than two dozen horses poked their heads out curiously, watching the new boy be paraded past them. Each one was allowed to smell Edmund as they pleased. He was told the name of each horse and which field it was assigned to. Once they reached the end of the hall and he had been informed about every horse, his partner released him and marched out without another word.

"Someone doesn't like playing babysitter." Edmund grumbled, turning to the horse closest to him. He found himself face to face with a jet black stallion who had his ears perked up curiously. "I'm sure this won't be as bad as he makes it out to be." As Edmund put out his hand for the stallion to sniff, he was quickly proven wrong. The horse reared and screamed, pinning his ears back and snapping at Edmund. The king jumped back, startled by the sudden vicious behavior. He sighed and moved on to the next stall. A palomino mare, the one who had been carted with Phillip, stuck her head out and nudged Edmund's shoulder sweetly. She was a fairly small creature, barely breaching fourteen hands. If Edmund didn't know horses better, he would have insisted she was a pony. She tossed her head lightly and Edmund smiled and patted her neck.

He walked down the hall, meeting each horse for several minutes. They all reacted differently to him though most seemed to readily accept him as their new caretaker. Eventually, however, the stallion at the end began to grow more agitated at the fact that he hadn't yet had his breakfast. He began to stamp and nicker impatiently and slowly got every other horse to do the same. It took over an hour, but Edmund was finally able to get each horse fed and released into its appropriate paddock. Just as he was about to leave and tend to the garden, a voice drifted down from the corridor to the left.

"Hello?" It was whispered cautiously and Edmund could barely make out what the voice had said. However, he knew exactly who it was and, despite the warnings not to, he raced down the hall.

"Phillip?" Edmund searched every stall, eventually finding his Horse in the very last one.

"Sire, I was hoping it was you. Are you alright? What did those brutes do to you?" Phillip laid his ears back angrily, inspecting Edmund's neck and head with his nose.

"I'm fine, Phillip. Just a bump."

"Just a bump? You could barely sit upright when I last saw you."

"Well I'm fine now, I promise. They have me working the horses on the opposite side of the barn and tending the garden during the day. I can do both easily. I'll be alright."

Phillip sighed. "How are we ever going to get back to Narnia?"

"I think we're still-" Before Edmund could finish the sentence, he was cut off with a harsh scream.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING DOWN HERE, BOY?" Edmund jumped and his eyes widened when he saw who was storming toward him. Mahir, looking angrier than ever, had his fists clenched and teeth bared. "Nash specifically told you NOT to come down here."

Edmund said nothing as Mahir grabbed his arm tightly. "You will learn to do as you are told. Tomorrow I sell the horse." The moment Edmund began to protest, Mahir punched him in the face. "Not a word from you." Phillip screamed and lunged for the Calormene, teeth gnashing and ready to bite his hand off. Edmund blinked away the darkness hovering on the edges of his vision and looked up at Phillip, silently begging him to stop. He didn't want the man to hurt Phillip too. The Horse seemed to get the message, for the second he caught Edmund's watchful gaze, he stopped struggling and simply glared at Mahir menacingly.

Edmund watched Phillip longingly as he was dragged down the hallway and outside. He gasped when Mahir threw him to the ground, landing on his still-tender shoulder. He sat up quickly and was about to stand but thought better of it when he saw the look his owner gave him. Mahir paced in circles around Edmund for several minutes, as though trying to decide the best way to kill him. After almost a dozen circles, Mahir finally stopped, looked down at Edmund, and kicked him in the ribs. Edmund gasped and wrapped his arms around himself, struggling to breathe evenly. Mahir kicked him again and continued to do so until Edmund was lying on the ground with a couple of broken ribs and completely at Mahir's mercy. At that point, the slave owner helped Edmund stand and tried to punch him. Out of instinct and self defense, Edmund raised his arm and blocked Mahir's fist, glaring at him defiantly. Edmund couldn't tell if this pleased or angered his master. Rather than try to hit him again, the Calormene dragged Edmund to the gardens behind the house.

"You will do your chores now, as you were instructed. I do not want to see you again until nightfall."

"And if you do?" The moment the words were out in the open, he regretted asking them. His answer was a swift, hard punch on the side of his head, sending the all-too-familiar sparks fizzling across his vision. Edmund blinked and was almost shocked to find himself on his hands and knees. He didn't realize he had fallen, but then again, it was hard to notice much else when one was seeing stars.

"I'll kill you." With that, Mahir marched back into the house.

At first the work seemed fairly easy. Pulling weeds was hard on his back, but it wasn't nearly as bad as scrubbing every speck of lichen out of a ship's hull. However, as the day went on, the sun rose higher and the heat began to get to him. Edmund grew dizzy, worsening the more he worked. His tools slipped out of his hands often and he was drenched in sweat. His stomach began to turn and his head pounded, eventually growing bad enough that he could no longer concentrate on what he was doing. His heart raced and by the time the sun set he was on the verge of passing out.

Despite his condition, Edmund somehow managed to stand up and stumble over to the horses, bringing them in one at a time and feeding them, just as he had been instructed. Once every horse was settled for the night, he began to make his way out of the stable, but stopped just before reaching the entrance. He could kill a half hour and not be missed, and he doubted that Mahir would come looking for him before morning. If Phillip was going to be sold in the morning, Edmund had to see him one last time. He had to try to help him escape.

He turned and walked down the left corridor, not stopping until he had reached Phillip's stall. As quietly as he could, he opened the door and slipped in, immediately sagging to the ground in exhaustion. He heard Phillip take a few cautious steps over to him and sniff the top of his head.

"My King, is that you? What are you doing here?" Phillip sounded worried, confused, angry, and relieved all at the same time. Edmund didn't think that was possible.

"Please, Phillip…please call me Edmund. I miss my name, and I wish you would call me that anyway."

"What's wrong? Your voice sounds different." Now Phillip was just worried.

"I'm going to miss you, too…"

"Edmund?"

"You gotta get out of here," Edmund knew he wasn't making much sense, but he didn't care. He was too tired to keep track of his thoughts, let alone care in what order they spewed out. "I'm going to let you free. You'll have to run. I'm not sure where you can go but you have to go and go fast or else they'll sell you and you can't be sold. I won't allow it. Maybe you could find a way across the Eastern Sea…send word to Peter. He'll take good care of you. Don't worry about looking for me. I'll find my way home, just so long as they don't kill me first. I'm going to open this gate and you've got to run, understand?"

"No, I can't say I do...what's wrong, Edmund? You're not yourself. You're not making any sense." Edmund heard Phillip lie down next to him in the straw and felt his velvet nose on his cheek. It wasn't until he tried to reach up and touch the Horse that he realized he was crying.

"I'm so tired, Phillip…" Edmund felt his head bob as he began to drift off to sleep, but the Stallion quickly nudged him awake.

"It's after nightfall. You're supposed to be back at the house. They'll come looking for you."

"They won't look for me…he said he'd kill me…"

"What?" Edmund didn't know Phillip's voice could get so dark. "No one is going to kill you while I'm alive."

"I'm gonna go back to the house, 'kay? They might come looking for me."

"But…you just…" Phillip sighed. "Be careful, sire. Are you sure you're safe to walk?"

"I'm fine…I'm gonna leave the door open for you. You have to run. They'll be back before dawn. Get Peter." Edmund stood shakily, and if it hadn't been for Phillip staying right by his side and giving him something to hold onto, he would have fallen back down. "Tell him not to worry. I'll be home soon, and I'm sorry I didn't wear fancier clothes."

"Fancier…Edmund? What are you talking about?"

"If I had worn fancier clothes, they would have recognized me as Narnian rather than thinking I was an Archenlander." With that, Edmund swept out of the stall and left the door wide open for Phillip to escape through.

It took him a good fifteen minutes with several breaks to get from the stables to the house, a walk that had taken only two to three minutes that morning. Edmund knew something wasn't right with himself, but he didn't have time to think about that. He had to get back before he got into trouble. When he finally walked through the front doors, he was all but unconscious. Come the next morning, he didn't remember how it took Nash and a young female slave to get him upstairs, or how he spent the entire night muttering sentence fragments, or how Nash toiled through the night trying to keep his body cool. All he knew was that he awoke to find a very cranky, very stern Nash lecturing him about the dangers of heat stroke and how he needed to keep himself better hydrated.

"I'm sorry," Edmund apologized weakly. "It won't happen again."

"Of course it will. You'll be working the gardens for the rest of the summer, and yesterday was a rather cool day compared to how hot it can get around here. You have no choice but to let it happen again. Just try to keep these incidents to a minimum. I'd rather not have to explain to the master why his newest, most expensive slave slipped into a coma and died doing simple yard work."

Edmund nodded silently, biting his lip a bit in shame. He couldn't tell if Nash was angry because he was worried for Edmund or himself. Either way, the young king felt bad for putting this boy in such a terrible position.

"Next time, you don't have to bother with me." Edmund didn't say it as an insult or accusation, but as a simple, honest offer.

"I know, but I'm going to. No one else has the guts to take care of a stranger, and no one else is old enough and strong enough to go without sleep and still perform well. Without me, you're as good as dead, kid."

There were a lot of things in that statement that confused Edmund, but he thought better of pressing Nash. It was bad enough that he was angry and risking getting in trouble. He probably didn't want to have to explain himself on top of all of that.

It was only a few minutes after their conversation that Mahir came upstairs and woke the rest of the slaves up. He allowed most of them to rush past him, hurrying to get as many chores done as they could as quickly as they could, but when Edmund tried to pass by, the Calormene blocked his way.

"Akmal will be doing your chores today. You and I are going to sell that precious horse of yours." Edmund wondered who Akmal was, but decided to play the wiser card and keep his mouth closed. He followed Mahir out to the stables, wincing at the amount of pressure the man applied to his shoulder when he squeezed. When they reached the barn, he let go of Edmund and opted for shoving him down the aisle, making him trip over his own feet and falling on his face once. As he frantically brushed the dirt off of his clothes, he looked up to see Mahir staring, horrified, into an empty stall. Phillip was gone.

At first, Edmund relaxed a bit. Phillip was gone, which mean he was safe. Or, safer than he would be, at least. Talking Animals were respected throughout Narnia, even on the Lone Islands. Once he revealed that he could talk, someone would help him. Edmund was sure of it. However, that left the matter of who was going to help Edmund. Mahir had turned on him, and he looked furious. His face had gone red and his entire body was tense. Edmund swore he could see the vein in his temple throbbing. He took a hesitant step backward.

"You let him out," Mahir growled. "You just cost me two hundred crescents."

Edmund turned and ran when Mahir charged at him. Despite still being weak from the day before, he gave the slave owner a good run for his money before he was finally tackled in one of the pastures. He covered his head with his arms instinctively as Mahir began to beat him. After the owner had gotten in a few shots, Edmund couldn't stand it anymore and decided to fight back. He rolled over, forcing Mahir to slide off of his back. The two scrambled to their feet, but Edmund got there first and swung his fist at his master's face. Mahir yelped in shock and pain, staring at Edmund for a few moments before fighting back.

The two brawled for several minutes, each getting in a good amount of swings and blocks. Just as Edmund was starting to think he could win this fight, Mahir whistled. He quickly glanced down the length of the pasture, doing a double take when he saw the wretched black stallion racing for the pair. At first the horse's ears were perked and he looked happy to answer his master's call, but when he saw Edmund, his ears went flat and his head lowered. The king had just a moment to duck out of the way of Mahir's fist and run a few feet before the stallion was upon him. He rammed into Edmund with his shoulder, screaming in fury. Edmund tumbled to the ground, pulling his legs and arms to his chest to avoid them being trampled on. He heard the stallion turn around and rear. Edmund rolled just in time, avoiding the stallion's legs by mere inches. He scrambled as quickly as he could for the fence and barely made it to the other side before the horse caught up with him.

Once he stood up, breathing heavily and wiping blood and dirt off of his face, he heard Mahir laugh. He spun around quickly and glared at the man who was striding over to the fence. Mahir patted his stallion's neck and smirked at Edmund.

"Kamal has some of the purest blood in these islands. His eyes can tell a good man from a dirty slave," Edmund jumped back when the horse snapped at him, glaring at Mahir when he laughed once again. "He obviously sees you as a slave. Were you born into this profession, boy, or were you recruited?" Edmund continued to glare, saying nothing. "Well, if you were the latter, your family should thank whoever took you. You're worthless, and good for nothing but cleaning up after an animal."

Mahir turned away from Edmund and smoothly mounted Kamal. He adjusted himself on the horse's bare back and looked down on Edmund.

"I am going to search for your horse, and when I find him, I will kill him and feed his meat to you and the other slaves. Be grateful you aren't there to watch him die."

Mahir seemed pleased when he saw Edmund pale at his threat. Guiding his horse with his mane, he strode over to the nearby gate. Edmund, lost in his thoughts, jumped when his owner bellowed at him to open the gate for him. He did as he was told, too worried and upset to rebel. Phillip was out there somewhere, unaware that a purebred stallion was going to be chasing after him with a killer on his back. Edmund had sent him to his death. He just knew it.

Struggling to keep himself from mounting the closest horse he could find and chase after Mahir, Edmund drifted back to the barn and helped Akmal with his chores. Akmal was a bit awkward to be around, he quickly realized. All he could get out of the boy was that he had been Mahir's slave for a year and he was eighteen years old. Beyond that, he wouldn't say a word. He would barely look Edmund in the eye, let alone carry on any semblance of a conversation with him.

As far as looks went, Akmal looked a lot like Adem. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes. His skin was tan from the summer sun, but during the winter Edmund could easily see it being a soft ivory. He had a bit of stubble on his chin, calloused hands, and too many bruises and cuts to count. It seemed Edmund wasn't the only one Mahir mistreated.

Once the horses had all been taken care of, Akmal excused himself quietly and left Edmund to tend to the gardens. He had no idea where the eighteen year old had gone, or what his chores were when he wasn't covering for Edmund, but he didn't have much time to care anyway. He toiled away in the gardens, surprised at just how much work needed to be done, even after everything he did the day before. He finally finished around sundown, once again soaked in sweat but not nearly as bad as he had been before.

It wasn't until after he had finished putting the horses away that he saw Mahir again. The man was leading his stallion back in, both looking tired and proud. Edmund watched him worriedly as he took care of the crazy steed rather than allowing Edmund to do it. Once the horse had been taken care of, Mahir approached him, wearing a smirk.

"Found him. Eat up." Edmund paled when his owner tossed a wrapped chunk of meat into his arms. He trembled with self restraint. He wanted Mahir dead. He wanted him dead right on the very spot he stood. He would kill him with his bare hands if it wasn't for the package he held. There was no way he was going to treat Phillip's flesh and blood poorly by dropping it on the ground to kill his murderer. Murderer. That was all Mahir was and that was all Edmund would ever see him as. Not a master, not a Calormene, not a man caught up in a bad trade who didn't know any better. Just a murderer.

Mahir watched as Edmund's entire body shook. He smirked when Edmund growled and curled up, ready to spring. He turned his back when Edmund didn't move, and after a few moments of standing still, he strode off to the house. Once he was out of sight, Edmund turned, fell to the ground, and threw up.


	9. Air

**Disclaimer: **I think you all get the picture.

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**54. Air**

Edmund didn't sleep that night. How could he, when he had watched on as fellow slaves unknowingly ate a Talking Animal, his dearest friend at that? He didn't eat, either. He wouldn't eat meat again until he was sure that enough time had passed for Phillip's to spoil. There was simply no way he could stomach it, not that he would ever want to.

The next day, Edmund didn't speak a word to anyone. Few wanted to talk to him in the first place, but Nash, who for some reason had seemed to take a shine to him, tried time and again to get something out of Edmund and began to worry when he failed. Edmund didn't care. How could he? He had sent his friend to his death. He was as much a murderer as Mahir.

The day passed by in a blur. Edmund finished his chores at his regular speed. He suffered heat exhaustion again, but it wasn't too bad. He ate the bread and carrots on his plate but didn't touch the meat. He went to bed, refusing to acknowledge anyone who tried to talk to him. The next day went by in much the same manner, and the next, and the next. Three weeks passed and the only change in the schedule was the amount of time it took for Edmund to get his chores done. With each day that went by without a good supply of protein, Edmund grew weaker. As he grew weaker, he did his chores slower. Daydreams were frequent and hard to snap out of. Beatings were equally as common but much easier to shrug off. The pain would stay with him for days, but he barely noticed it.

As the summer dragged on, the weather got hotter, and as time dragged on, Edmund moved slower. Three weeks to the day since Edmund had last seen Phillip, the weather was hotter than it had ever been and Edmund was moving slower than he ever had. He all but sat in the garden, waiting for the heat to kill him. He sweated as though he was a human water fountain, though at one point the sweating stopped. His heart raced and it became difficult to breathe.

Edmund smiled and lay back, sprawling out on the ground as though he were about to make a snow angel. He watched the sun, or, one of them. He was seeing two, and he kept his eyes focused on the one that made his eyes hurt less. The suns slowly began to circle one another, like two vultures hovering over an animal carcass. Edmund had seen a lot of vultures on his hunts with Peter. Speaking of Peter…

Edmund sat up weakly, looking around the gardens. Only they weren't the gardens he had been tending for the past few weeks. They were the gardens back home, with Peter's baby apple trees and Lucy's vineyards and Susan's tomatoes and Edmund's corn. Peter was just to Edmund's side, sitting down and looking around at the gardens with him. Edmund smirked at his brother. As soon as Peter turned his head and smiled quizzically back, he tackled the High King. The two wrestled for a few minutes before a voice interrupted them.

"Emad? What on earth are you doing?" Edmund and Peter untangled themselves from each other and looked up at Phillip who was standing nearby and looking at them as though they were the craziest humans he had ever met.

"Phillip!" Edmund smiled brightly and ran over to him. "You don't have to call me that anymore, we're safe now. I thought Mahir had killed you?"

"Who's Phillip? Emad, what on earth are you talking about?"

Edmund's smile quickly faded and a frown took its place. "What do you mean 'who's Phillip'? You're Phillip. Are you okay?"

"Emad, it's Nash. Snap out of it." Edmund watched in horror as Phillip changed into a human, and then into Nash, who was violently shaking his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you inside before you die."

Something in Nash's voice told Edmund he wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. He followed the slave weakly, tripping over his own feet and trying to find out where he was being led. Every now and then he would be able to spot something he recognized – a part of the gardens, the front door, the parlor, the stairs – but he couldn't figure out how to put two and two together and realize that he was being led into the bathroom. Before he had time to ask any questions, Nash pushed him into the bath and doused him with a large bucket of cool water that was meant for someone's shower. Edmund sputtered and coughed and wanted to demand answers, but he couldn't remember what words he was supposed to say to do so. He watched as Nash raced down the stairs and waited for him to come back, but he seemed to take forever and Edmund, completely and utterly drained, fell asleep before he returned.

When Edmund awoke, he felt exhausted and stiff. He looked around weakly, taking note of how dark it was. He spotted Nash, fast asleep and leaning against the foot of Edmund's bed. He realized all too quickly what had happened. He had suffered heat stroke. Peter had never been there. Phillip had never been there. The two suns, the gardens, all of it was a hallucination. Poor Nash had had to save his coworker once again, and he looked exhausted from it. Edmund bit his lip lightly, jumping in surprise when Nash's eyes shot open. He sat up weakly, his entire body shaking from the effort, and his friend jumped as well when he saw that Edmund was awake.

"I thought I was going to lose you for a minute there." Nash smiled weakly, the first time Edmund had ever seen him smile.

"Oh…sorry…" Edmund was still too weak to think clearly.

"You had it pretty bad. Who's Phillip, by the way?"

"The Horse I arrived here with." Edmund looked down, biting his lip once again to keep from crying.

"The one that ran off?"

Edmund nodded. "Mahir killed him…"

"Oh…I'm assuming that's why you've been so quiet, then. You two were close, huh?" Once again, Edmund nodded. "Why were you talking to him if he was just a horse?"

"He wasn't just a horse…"

"You mean…do you know what Mahir would have done if he knew Phillip was a Talking Horse? If he is dead, he's better off that way. At least you'll see him again in Aslan's Country. If Mahir had known, he would have sold him in Calormen, more likely than not, and his life there would be nothing short of humiliation at the worst level. Dead or not, now that he's free he's better off, and you'll see him again. Not to worry."

Edmund nodded meekly. "But I miss him…and if he is dead, it's my fault."

"It's not your fault and don't you think that for one moment," The always-angry Nash that Edmund knew, or thought he knew, so well had finally showed up again. "Mahir hated him from the start and probably would have wound up killing him or selling him to a slaughter house eventually. I'm assuming you're the one who set Phillip free. By doing that, you might have saved his life rather than doomed him. We don't know if he's dead or not, and there's a good chance he's not. Mahir is a terrible hunter. It's why he always sends one of us to hunt for him."

Edmund glanced up at Nash. "But…he brought back Phillip's meat…"

"Did you see the body for yourself?"

"Well…no, but…"

"Then you have to assume he's alive and well. If you don't, then Mahir has already won, and I'm sick of him winning. I've seen too many slaves go insane or die at his hand. Don't make me watch another one fall." Edmund blinked, wondering where this sudden support was coming from. "Anyway, you best have something to eat and drink. You're working today, whether you're still on the verge of death or not. You can have my breakfast. I stole some meat from the smoke house while everyone was asleep."

"Thank you…" Edmund stared at Nash, more than a little surprised. "Why are you being so nice to me when everyone else looks scared of me?"

"They're scared of everyone. You live with this family for a few months, you learn to be scared."

"How long have you been here, and you haven't answered my question."

"I've been here for five years, since I was fourteen. I learned to be scared, then I toughened up. The others haven't had a chance to learn how to toughen up yet. And I'm being so nice because you look new to the slave business and I want to show you its plus sides."

"Sides plural?"

"Okay…well…plus _side_."

"I see. Well…thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Hey Emad, can I ask a question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"What's your real name?" Edmund hesitated. He wanted Nash to know his real identity, but he couldn't risk Mahir overhearing and killing him.

"Eamon."

"I'm Nath." Nash sighed softly. "I think it's time you got more rest. Enough questions tonight. You have a couple of hours before work in the morning. I suggest you take advantage of them."

With that, Nash faded into darkness. Edmund heard him slip into his own bed. He listened to the darkness, silently writing letters to his siblings. He wondered what they were doing now. Peter had probably stopped looking for him. It had been forty days since Edmund and Phillip had gone missing. If they had wandered off, they would have been found by now. That meant that they had to of been attacked by some unknown enemy, and if remains weren't found after forty days, there was little hope they would ever show up. They were all probably insane with worry or grief. Peter was probably sleeping in Edmund's room rather than his own. Lucy had told Edmund once that, whenever Edmund was gone, Peter always kept his bed warm for him. Edmund wouldn't be surprised if Lucy and Susan were sleeping in there too. He had to wonder if they had held a funeral for him. The thought made him shudder. He didn't want to be able to visit his grave site. He didn't plan on having a headstone with his name on it anytime soon. He was only sixteen.

By the grace of Aslan, Edmund fell asleep before he could think any more of his siblings. He slept well, and come morning he didn't remember any dreams he had had. After Mahir had shaken everyone awake and sent them on their way, after Edmund and Nash had parted ways, and after Edmund was halfway to the barn, he decided he was going to listen to Nash. He wasn't going to let Mahir win. He was going to fight until there was nothing left of him. He wasn't going to give Peter and the others a reason to plant his headstone.

For four weeks, Edmund continued to do his chores in the stables and gardens. He started out doing a better job than he ever had, getting everything done by dusk. For two weeks his performance improved greatly, as did his mood. He was convinced that Peter wouldn't give up. There was no way his brother would forfeit him to Death before he had solid proof. It would probably take him awhile before he thought of the slave trade, and he would probably spend quite some time in Calormen after the idea dawned on him, but Peter wouldn't stop searching. Edmund had to hang on to that.

However, time dragged on, and after fifty four days in captivity, Edmund's spirits began to wane once again. Even though autumn was on its way, the days weren't getting cooler. At least, not noticeably so. A drought had hit the islands, and less water meant more heat exhaustion. Edmund learned ways to keep himself cool during the worst of the afternoon heat, but even the best of tactics could only last for so long. The abuse from Mahir wasn't letting up either. There was a new problem every day that gave Edmund a new black eye or busted lip or broken rib. Once, on the hottest day of the year so far, Edmund accidentally dropped a bucket of water meant for some of the plants. Mahir had seen, and he wound up dislocating Edmund's shoulder.

Finally, exactly 68 days after Edmund had been kidnapped, the weather began to cool. It was time for harvesting, and after that, Edmund's work in the gardens would be over until spring. With so many crops that needed gathering, Edmund was grateful to see that Asha, Mahir's wife, had convinced Mahir to allow several slaves to assist him. Nash, Akmal, Basam, and Calla were recruited. Each slave was given a specific garden to tend to per day, and after three days, every garden was picked clean. Over those days Edmund learned much more about the slaves he was living with.

Basam, whose real name was Balir, was a young man, just three months older than Edmund. He was tall and muscular, "from working with a bunch of hardheaded bulls and the cattle too", as he put it. Despite the fear Mahir had instilled in him, once Edmund got to know him, he really opened up. He had been a farm boy in Archenland, once upon a time, the second of five children. He had had one older brother, two younger brothers and one younger sister, all of whom he spoke of dearly. His mother had passed away giving birth to his sister and Basam seemed to miss her greatly. He wasn't worried, though. His father, he said, was a tough man and knew how to raise his children well. He had been away from home for two years, but he was convinced that one day he would break out of slavery and return home.

Calla, known by that name both at home and under Mahir's rule, was a spunky child. She was eighteen years old and, though extremely jumpy at any loud noise, very talkative. She had been born into the slave business, she said. Her father was a Calormene and her mother was an Archenlander servant in his household. One day, when the Calormene's wife was away, he took advantage of the female slaves in the house. Thus, Calla came about. She said her mother never minded, though. Her mother secretly loved the Calormene, and Calla didn't dislike him either. He was sweet when the wife was home, she insisted, and always made sure his own were well cared for when she wasn't. Calla was sold when she was ten years old, but she heard through the grapevine that, a year after she had left, the Calormene's wife was killed and he took Calla's mother as his new bride. She was happy for them, though she never did see them again. After that, Calla bounced from home to home, never staying for more than a few months. That is, until Mahir bought her. He had owned her for a year and a half, and she hated him. It had taken just two months for him to break her, and though she was beginning to toughen up, she still reacted severely to any sudden movements or noises and she hated feeling weak.

Akmal remained quiet, and Edmund learned through the others that the rest of the slaves, all female, were known by Mahir as Hanah, Jenae, Lamis, and Nasrin. Little was said about them, as it was a general consensus among the slaves that, unless they were present and gave their consent, no one would reveal any information about them. Slavery was a risky business, they said, and you never knew whom you might be trusting valuable information with.

Despite his new friends, Edmund's mental footing began to falter. He grew quieter, thinking more about home and less about the jobs at hand. Once the harvesting had ended, Edmund had been moved from the gardens to the household, though he was still charge over the right corridor of the stables. Hanah, he was told, was the one who worked the left, where the new or sick horses were stabled. She was a sort of miracle worker, they claimed. Horses could have been sick or injured for years, but when she worked with them, they recovered in just a few weeks, sometimes a few days. People would pay Mahir for her services, and she loved her job.

Edmund wasn't sure how he felt about his chores. He liked tending to most of the horses, though the black stallion at the end continued his attempts at murder. None of the stallions were very well tempered, though, so Edmund simply contributed it to testosterone, dominance, and breeding and went on his way. He was glad to be rid of working in the gardens, though working in the house was hard in its own way. Apparently Mahir's wife and daughter had taken a liking to the way he looked, just like Tahj had said long ago. They insisted he work as their server. Nasrin, the youngest of the girls, had been their server over the summer, but when Edmund took over she went on to become the full time nanny for Mahir's daughter Sanaa. In the house, Edmund had several very strict rules to follow that covered everything from what place settings went where and what time to set them to what person got which specific piece of silverware. Any mistakes, and the mistakes were frequent, were met with severe punishment, more often than not a crying Sanaa, and even more punishment after that.

Despite the upsides and downsides to each chore, there was one thing that Edmund hated all around. No matter where he was, Edmund had a hard time breathing. He had spent six years living in sweet, clear, light, cool Narnian air. Now, the air was heavy and hot with dust and weather. It seemed almost thick, as though Edmund could reach out, close his hand, and have a puff of smoke hovering in the palm of his hand. It sounded silly when he thought about it, but the air seemed almost tangible, animated, like it was its own living organism. He hated the air, and he doubted he would ever get used to it, no matter how long he lived a life of slavery in Mahir's household.


	10. Spirit

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill.

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**55. Spirit**

Edmund couldn't decide whether he hated or enjoyed being a server in Mahir's household. On the one hand, he was always within earshot of Mahir, and, more often than not, less than an arm's length away. It was common for him to be abused over the smallest issues. Usually Edmund would have become fed up with the treatment and defended himself. He was rather skilled at hand-to-hand combat, though not nearly as good as Peter. However, Mahir had what some called a little bit of a rage problem, and if he didn't take it out on Edmund, he took it out on his son, and Edmund didn't want that.

It wasn't until a week after Edmund had joined the house staff that he even found out Mahir had a son. Everyone knew about little Sanaa. Even though she was only four years old, she seemed to be the pride of the household. Mahir coddled her like a bear with its cubs, defending her and loving her and taking care of her better than he took care of himself. Edmund had figured that, if Mahir had any other children, especially boys, he would treat them the same way. Apparently that wasn't the case.

Edmund found out about Yasir, Mahir's son, on accident. Asha had asked him to fetch a pair of knitting needles from the parlor. He did as instructed, but on his way back, he heard a strange noise coming from one of the bedrooms. Worried that it might be little Nasrin going into rooms where she shouldn't be, he opened the door and looked around. It wasn't Nasrin he found, but Mahir in the middle of beating a young boy, no older than thirteen. Edmund didn't remember much after that. Mahir beat him senseless, to the point where he was bedridden for two days with a concussion and yet another dislocated shoulder.

Despite all of that, though, Edmund was able to find some upsides. He had a chance to meet Nasrin, for one. She was a dainty thing, only eleven years old. She was a sweet little dear and reminded Edmund so much of Lucy. She spent her days in the nursery playing with Sanaa, and from what she told some of the slaves at bedtime, they had quite the adventures in that little room. Whenever she saw someone crying, be it Sanaa or Asha or any of her fellow slaves, she would sit next to them and pat their back comfortingly until they were all cried out and then give them a tender hug and a kiss on the cheek. She didn't talk about her parents much, and whenever someone tried to bring them up, she would go quite solemn and sit in a corner by herself until she had calmed down. All she would say about her past was that she was sold to Mahir at a slave trade for fifty crescents. She didn't understand money much, nor did she care to, but she never forgot that number.

Another plus was the food. Usually slaves were given lower quality meats that Mahir had bought for them, or bread that had gone a bit stale, or cheese that was bad on the edges. Edmund, however, was permitted to eat whatever scraps were left on the plates after the family finished eating before he washed the dishes, and every now and again Asha would set aside a good piece of meat for him as a treat. He liked Asha a lot and had to wonder how such a sweet woman could marry such a violent man.

As time went on, Edmund was trusted with more duties, and one of those duties was fetching necessities from the market place. The market was a very exciting spot, always filled with new people and a few sweet vendors who were willing to give a bruised apple or a broken watermelon to starving slaves. It was also a very informative spot to travel. Through several trips to the market, Edmund quickly learned that a Calormene population had sprung up on the little island. He overheard gossip, most of it worthless but some answered a few questions he had had. He learned over the course of a few weeks that most of the Calormene citizens had smuggled their way onto the island to avoid some sort of punishment, be it debts or crimes they were convicted of or mistrust among the government. They would flee onto Narnian soil, usually that particular island, and live out their lives taking advantage of the Narnian laws. Of course they still hated the Kings and Queens, and almost every Calormene wanted the barbarians dead, but no one could argue that they had some very convenient laws.

Every few days, Yasir was permitted to go out with Edmund. At first he was very quiet and spiteful toward his slave, much like his father. After some time, though, he began to open up to Edmund. At first he only told him little pieces of information. He was twelve years old and was going to be sent off to train for the army when he was fifteen. He had a brother who was already a soldier. He had a royal family member somewhere down the line.

As time passed, Yasir became more and more willing to talk. He began to tell Edmund things, threatening to have him killed if he uttered a word to anybody, even a fellow slave. But he told him things nonetheless. His father used to be a good man, he said. He was respected among his peers and very wealthy. However, things were a bit rough at work, the specifics Yasir did not know. He did know, however, that his father was becoming angrier and angrier with his coworkers and people in general. He drank a lot, which seemed to calm him down, but when he didn't have a bottle in his hand he could become rather violent. One day, Yasir remembered, his father came home and the first sound he heard was a plate that Yasir had dropped shattering on the floor. That was before they had very many slaves and Yasir had to help in the kitchen. His father took him into the master bedroom and beat him as punishment. Yasir was only six at the time.

For a few weeks after that, Mahir went back to acting like his usual self. Until, that is, he came home one day covered in blood. The next day, he packed up his family and they moved to Redhaven. Yasir never was told what his father had done that day, but he had a sinking suspicion that he had killed a man and had had to flee with his family for fear of being hanged. Within a few weeks of moving, his father started dipping in the slave trade. He was rather good at it, too. He would buy slaves for cheap, pack them with muscles over the course of a year or two, and once they had either cracked or looked like they would sell for a good profit, he sold them. He made quite a bit of money off of that and sold over two dozen slaves in the first two years. There was one slave whom he didn't sell, though. Yasir said that Mahir had taken a shine to Nash because of his resilience and ability to adapt quickly. He said help like that would be good for the new arrivals.

After all of that had been revealed, Edmund started asking questions. The moment he started asking questions, Yasir stopped giving information. The only words he would say were death threats, and Edmund was fairly convinced that he would go through with them if he was pressed too far.

One day – whether for better or worse Edmund couldn't tell – Yasir stopped joining him. Usually Edmund would wait for him, but whenever he hesitated by the door, Mahir would strike the back of his head and he would have to bolt before being hit again and risking a concussion. One day, 104 days after being taken captive, Edmund ran into Yasir in a back hallway. He tried to get some answers out of him, but Yasir simply threatened to kill him. Edmund continued to press him, desperate for his new friend back, but all that earned him was a sharp punch in the shoulder. With a sigh, Edmund turned to go back down the hall and ran right into Mahir. He looked up in horror as Mahir smirked proudly at his son, nodded, grabbed Edmund's arm, and pulled him into the master bedroom where he beat his slave to unconsciousness.

From then on, whenever Yasir made a mistake, Edmund would be the one to be punished for it. He hated it, but he had been threatened that, if he cared so much for Yasir, he would have to get used to it or else Mahir would go back to beating his son. Edmund didn't want a twelve year old to have to put up with abuse, not after six years of dealing with it and finally getting a break. The kid deserved to no longer live in hiding for fear of upsetting his father, so Edmund said nothing and allowed himself to be tortured twice as often as before.

Despite Edmund's resilience and his will to listen to Nash and tough out the treatment, he knew the human spirit could only take so much before it broke. His breaking point came on the 121st day of captivity. He could trace it down to an exact moment. He was being punished for something Yasir had done, again. Mahir for some reason was angrier than usual and there was extra, almost superhuman strength behind his punches. Edmund's shoulder, the same one that had been dislocated twice before, snapped out of its socket. He cried out in pain and his arm dangled limply by his side, but rather than decide that that was enough like he usually did, Mahir continued to beat him.

At that moment, Edmund knew there was no hope for him. This man didn't have an ounce of human left in him, and when he sold Edmund, he would probably sell him to someone who was just as cruel or worse. Edmund's life was going to be an endless cycle of masters and abuse, and there was no breaking out of it. Calormenes would only sell to other Calormenes they trusted, which meant there was no chance of revealing himself without being killed. No one recognized him or knew him as anyone other than Emad, so there was no hope of sending out a messenger for help. He had been gone for four months, and if his brother was going to find him, he would have been found already. At last, the goal Mahir had been trying to reach for the entirety of those four months finally came about. Edmund's hope vanished, and his spirit broke.


	11. Rain

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own them.

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**66. Rain**

Edmund thought, hoped, that he had hit rock bottom. Surely there couldn't be anything worse than what he had been put through already. If he could just survive the beatings and remember how to talk to his friends, he wouldn't live, but at least he wouldn't die. He had resigned himself to the idea of never breaking free, never seeing his siblings again, never living the life Aslan had shown him. Edmund thought that his life couldn't get any worse without Death being involved. But he had forgotten one very important detail. What the slave trade was all about.

As time had progressed, Edmund had gotten close to some of the slaves. With some the relationship stayed at acquaintance level, but with most of them, they had become good friends. Each person played a role, as well. Nash was the older brother that Edmund didn't think he'd ever see again. Nasrin was the little sister, Lucy's twin if it hadn't been for her black hair as opposed to Lucy's red. Hanah was the mentor, the one who saw only facts and worked through only heart. Calla was the mother of the group, making sure everyone was safe and warm at night and hydrated and fed during the day. Basam was the younger brother who, at night when they were all alone, showed his humorous side and kept everyone's spirits as high as they could go. Akmal was the teacher. He had experience in every line of work a slave could be in and was never afraid to answer questions or lend a guiding hand. He could be rather harsh about it, and he was hard to talk to, but he helped nonetheless. Lamis, though the silent one, was a good person to talk to. Edmund never heard her say a single word, but she didn't need to. She showed sympathy and understanding through her expressions, and she was always willing to listen.

The thought of giving any of them up never crossed Edmund's mind. Never, that is, until day 130. It had started out like any normal day. At dawn, everyone went out to do their chores. Edmund took care of the horses as always, and he was proud to see that he was finally making some progress with Kamal, who no longer snapped at him the second he came into view. Once he had finished, he went inside and suffered silently through Mahir's abuse, and when he wasn't being struck, he did Asha's bidding. She was especially gentle with him that day, and he was grateful. It wasn't until the late afternoon that anything seemed amiss. Asha had instructed him to put out two extra place settings at the dinner table. Mahir was expecting guests, she explained, but she did not say why and Edmund wasn't about to ask. Mahir had never had guests before and he didn't seem like the type to welcome anyone into his home, and Edmund, still retaining a small slice of curiosity, had to wonder what the occasion was.

Once dinner came around and as Edmund served it to the family, he stole glances of the two guests. There was a thickly built Calormene man and his small-but-tough looking wife. They appeared to be in their forty's and definitely had quite a bit of money stashed away. The conversation was sparse and Edmund learned nothing through eavesdropping other than how the weather was, how the crops would sell, and that the foals would need weaning soon.

After dinner, Nasrin took Sanaa to bed and the four adults moved into the parlor. Their conversation barely made it to the kitchen, where Edmund spent forty five minutes washing dishes, and what little he could hear was jumbled and slurred to the point where nothing made sense. Once he finished the dishes, he went outside and took care of the horses, talking to them softly as he always did. None of the horses seemed to have any inclination as to what was going on inside the house, and if they did, they weren't saying so. Then again, they weren't Talking Horses, so it wasn't as though they would if they wanted to anyway.

Edmund finished his chores by nightfall and, as always, went straight upstairs to the attic where the slaves slept. Everyone else was there too, sitting on the floor asking each other questions about the newcomers. Akmal swore that they were relatives of Mahir's, asking him to return to Calormen. Nasrin insisted that she had heard them discussing money and how much they were willing to pay for something. Nash stayed worrisomely silent. Edmund took his seat between Nash and Basam, saying nothing. Everyone looked up at him, and though they didn't say anything, he could see in their eyes that they wanted to know what he had heard.

"The foals need to be weaned soon." He almost winced at how weak and tired his voice sounded. He didn't talk much anymore, and he hadn't realized how much his voice had changed.

Before anyone could ask him what he meant by that, the sound of Mahir's footsteps coming up the stairs echoed through the gray room. Everyone dashed to their appropriate beds, waiting silently for whatever punishment was about to be dealt. Mahir never came upstairs in the evening, and everyone had a sinking feeling that it had to do with his guests.

"They're right in here." Mahir's voice could be heard booming through the door.

Said door swung open just a half of a second later, revealing the room full of eight to the hallway full of four. Asha stood toward the back, hidden by the two men, but Edmund's eyes immediately flew to her. She looked solemn, though not quite sad. While the two men entered the room, she and the other woman stayed in the hall, watching from afar. Edmund bit his lip as the stranger inspected every slave. He forced their mouths open and looked at their teeth, looked at their eyes, their hands, and with some, made them stand and walk in a circle. When it was Edmund's turn, he let the man do whatever he wanted, eventually standing up for him and sitting back down when instructed. He watched as Mahir and his guest went back to the women. They talked for a moment in voices too low to be understood, and once they had all seemed to come to an agreement, they turned back to the slaves.

"Lamis, someone has come for you," Mahir kept his eyes fixed on the silent slave. Her body trembled. "Aban is your new master. You will go home with him tonight."

Edmund paled. He looked over at Nash desperately, pleading for him to do something. He was the oldest of the group, and he had been here for five years. Surely he knew some way to get little Lamis back. But Nash simply watched, emotionless, as the fourteen year old mute slinked over to her new master and mistress and followed them out the door, crying quietly. It wasn't until all four adults had left and the door was shut that Nash said something.

"It's starting early this year."

"Yeah…usually he waits until winter to sell us." Calla piped up.

"Maybe that was just a fluke. Some friends who needed one now for some reason." Basam joined in.

"Maybe." Nash didn't sound convinced.

Edmund looked around the room nervously. Everyone looked shaken up by the early sale and Nasrin was comforting an upset Jenae. Jenae and Lamis had been close, from what Edmund had seen. The two had arranged their beds so they were next to each other, and when they couldn't sleep, they would often pass notes back and forth. Edmund looked over at Nash, who looked like he was trying to sleep and failing miserably.

"Will I be sold?" Edmund whispered. His voice shook a bit.

"I don't think so. You've only been here four months. Usually Mahir will wait a year and a half or more before he sells a slave."

"Usually?"

"Enough questions, Emad. I'm tired." The bite that had been in Nash's voice when Edmund had first arrived was back. It made Edmund flinch and pull away.

The night dragged by slowly, sleepless for most of the slaves. Only Akmal slept the entire night which wasn't a surprise to anyone. Lamis had been afraid of him, and it was obvious he didn't like her much. The morning eventually came, and Mahir woke everyone right on schedule. Not a sound was made as the seven remaining slaves went out to do their chores. As Edmund put the horses into their pastures, he looked on sadly as the foals picked at the grass. He had seen several foals be weaned at Cair Paravel, some of them Talking Horses, and he knew how upsetting it could be. It was never an enjoyable task, that was for certain.

The days went by, and the cycle remained as it always had. No other buyers came calling, luckily, and Edmund and his friends began to relax. It wasn't until five days after Lamis' selling that anything changed. It was time to start weaning the foals, and Mahir had made it quite clear that he was leaving the task up to Edmund to prove just how well he could work with horses. Luckily, Asha had once again convinced her husband to give Edmund some help, and Hanah was recruited. It was no surprise. Even though they weren't her horses to work with, Hanah had found a way to bond with Edmund's foals and she made the task much more bearable.

It was during those first, long days that Edmund finally learned more about her. He had only heard bits and pieces from her past, but as they worked, she filled the awkward silences with stories. First, she spoke of her parents. Edmund wasn't at all surprised to find out that she had pure Calormene blood running through her veins. She had quite the story-telling talent, a respected trait among their kind.

Both of her parents were hired servants, moving from house to house and name to name until they were no longer wanted. Hanah went through four different names when she was young, but her parents always called her Kalila. Sweet hearted, she said it meant. With each residence her family worked, they always had horses. Hanah claimed she had been born in a barn, in the stable where her parents were allowed to sleep. At the same time, the mare in the next stall over was birthing her daughter. Hanah said that they bonded before they had been cleaned off, and it was because of that little filly that she was so good with horses. She had literally been born around them.

She lived in that barn with that filly for four years, and had even helped break her in. When the master of the household died, the mistress gave Hanah the filly as a thank you. Hanah's parents allowed her to keep the horse, as did each new master they served. She named the horse Anisah as a tribute to their friendship.

When Hanah was thirteen and living in her fourth home, a band of raiders swarmed the house and killed everyone inside. She said that the only reason she survived was because she had been with Anisah, and when the raiders came into the barn, the mare covered Hanah with her body and acted crazy until every single man had left. The two spent the next month traveling alone, eventually winding up in Archenland where a farmer took them in. Six months later, Tahj and his men kidnapped her and her mare. They sold the two as a pair, and Mahir bought them. The rest, she said, was history.

When Edmund asked what the mare looked like, Hanah described his favorite palomino mare to a T, the mare that had been carted to Phillip and accepted him readily on the first day. When Edmund told her this, Hanah smiled and said her horse could tell a good man from bad much better than the purebred stallion in the stall next door. Edmund couldn't agree more.

Nine days after the weaning had began, after everyone had gotten used to Lamis not wandering among them and had accepted the notion that her early sale was just a one-time thing, Asha asked Edmund to set out an extra place setting. His stomach dropped and he could feel his face go ashen. He did as he was told, and the visit started out exactly like the previous had. Any worthwhile conversation was said after dinner, where Edmund was incapable of listening in. He did his evening chores in a daze, wondering who would go this time and if the new visitor would treat them like animals, as the last one did.

Once again, when Edmund went upstairs, everyone was abuzz as to who the visitor was and what he wanted. Just like last time, too, Mahir came upstairs and said a quick "They're right in here" before swinging the door open. An old, somewhat skinny, noble looking man stepped into the room, glaring at every single slave one at a time. He said nothing as Mahir took his place to the man's right.

"Calla, Akmal, someone has come for you." Edmund had a very strong sense of déjà vu. "You will go home with Kedar tonight."

Everyone in the room paled and looked over at the two who had been chosen. Calla was quiet, but didn't look at all upset or scared. She strode over to her new master with sure, even steps. Akmal was the complete opposite. He was as white as Kamal was black and he stumbled twice while walking over to his owner. It was clear that both knew Kedar very well.

With a final, disapproving glare from Kedar and a vicious smirk from Mahir, the four left the room. Edmund rushed to the window, watching in horror as his friends got into a large cart pulled by two draft horses. As Edmund stared out the window, trying to keep his eyes locked on his two friends surrounded by four other slaves, a crack of thunder echoed through the room and rain began pouring down in sheets on the uncovered wagon. He bit his lip, drawing blood, watching the sea of faces until it was no longer visible.


	12. Snow

**Author's Note: **Hey guys. I and my fanfic Challenges have been nominated for Best Overall Fic in Progress in Western Wood, Narnian Awards 2010. I'm so honored! :D The nomination can be found here: http :/ community. livejournal. com/ western _ wood/ 4527. html. I'm not sure what the voting procedure is, but I'm sure information is in there somewhere. A huge thank you to those who nominated me! I can't tell you how excited, honored, and loved I feel right now.

**Disclaimer: **Slaves, slave owners, and most minor characters belong to me. Everything else that is the wonderful world of Narnia is credited to C.S. Lewis and Walden Media.

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**67. Snow**

Life without Calla and Lamis was difficult, more so than it had been, that was for sure. Edmund hadn't realized how close he had gotten to them until they were gone. They had been the only ones he could really talk to, and now that they weren't there, his mind was flooded with thoughts he didn't want to harbor.

The days were starting to grow shorter and colder. At first, Edmund had at least had Hanah to talk to. She didn't have the motherly, nurturing spirit that Calla did. She didn't have the intent, honest gaze to show she was listening like Lamis did. She dealt better with facts rather than feelings. But she was something. However, as the wind began to pick up a certain bite that meant winter was just ahead, Hanah was forced to leave him and tend to her own horses rather than help with his weaned foals. He was left alone, with nothing to do but think.

There was so much he had to think about, too. So much that he needed to unload. But there was no one there for him to talk to now. Nasrin was too young, and though she was good for a hug, she wasn't good for advice, or any other sort of comfort for that matter. Nash had seemed to harden himself against emotions and past lives over the years and wouldn't accept a sentimental story readily. Basam and Edmund weren't close enough for any sort of heart to heart conversation, and Jenae was too distraught with Lamis' leaving to talk to anyone, let alone Edmund about his problems.

So Edmund was left to think alone. At first he thought about Phillip, the freshest thing in his mind. There were so many things to worry about with him. For one was the thought of Mahir finding him. If Mahir had found him, had he really killed him? And had he made it quick and painless, or had he dragged it out? Then there was the thought of Phillip not being found and having to wander an island alone. They had been on Redhaven, but not the main island, where Edmund knew so many people and everyone respected Talking Animals. They were on one of Redhaven's smaller islands, one of the ones it owned but wasn't spoken of much. It was never mentioned in Narnian history and was never seen as very popular. That is, it seemed, until a dozen or so years ago when Calormenes had started to take over. With Jadis being ruler, she hadn't minded, and the Pevensies hadn't really known anything about it since it had never been pointed out to them for some unknown reason and they had never visited the island themselves. That meant that Phillip had been set loose on an island full of spiteful men who used Talking Animals as entertainers and pets. How was he supposed to get off safely? He would have been better off if Edmund had set him free in the middle of the Western Wild. At least then he wouldn't find any men who would capture and kill or use him.

Every time Edmund thought about Phillip, he would think of the Cair. How much he missed that place. He missed its great halls, its large rooms, its warm, comfortable beds. He missed the people, Animals, and creatures it held. The ones who cared about him and would attack anyone who laid an unkind hand on him. He missed his family.

He missed Lucy. He almost smiled when he thought of her in her night dress, running down the hall with a child's energy and sliding on the marble in her socks. She kept everyone young and happy. She was always so delightful to be around, and Edmund had never seen her sport any sort of temper. He missed her so much. What he wouldn't give for one of her hugs right now.

Then there was Susan. She had always been rather practical and stiff, keeping everyone in line. When Edmund was young, he had hated her for that. She had always been so angry at him when he crossed a line, and he was almost always crossing one line or another. But now that he was older and their relationship had improved, he had come to realize just how good of a person she was. She was sweet and caring and so full of worry, and though she had grown up too quickly in Edmund's opinion, she made for a good mother figure.

Finally, though Edmund tried his best to avoid it, he thought of Peter. He missed Peter so much it literally ached. He and his brother had grown so close over the years. They had made sure their rooms were next door to each other, and quite often, especially after nightmares, they would find themselves sharing a room. They each seemed to have a sixth sense, and could always tell when the other was in some sort of trouble. If one got hurt, the other felt his pain. Edmund couldn't believe how much more he missed his brother compared to his sisters. He loved them all, of course, but it was as though Peter was an addiction and the withdrawal was killing him.

He didn't want to think about what Peter was going through, not knowing what happened to his younger brother. He was probably blaming himself, though of course it was Edmund's fault. Peter had insisted he take some form of personal guard with him, but Edmund had refused. He had gotten sick of the feeling of being stalked, and he had insisted that just one day on his own wouldn't hurt. Of course, he hadn't meant to venture so close to the Archenland border, but he hadn't exactly had it in his mind to avoid it either. Archenland was an ally. Certainly nothing bad would happen to him in an ally's country. The fact that he had worn common clothes rather than proper royal hunting dress had just been stupid of him. He had been so absorbed in the idea of feeling like a normal person again that he had ditched anything that would signal him as a higher-standing being. He couldn't have been more idiotic. But of course, rather than place the blame where it belonged, Peter would find a way to blame himself. He always did. He worried too much, which made Edmund worry about him, and on and on the cycle went.

Edmund was surprised just how quickly the days went by when he thought about home. He would crawl into bed weak, and sometimes in pain, from thinking about home so much, but he would crawl into bed that much sooner nonetheless. He grew quieter, too, and though he knew he was worrying Nash all over again, he didn't make an effort to fix anything. He didn't see a real reason to. Thinking about home lifted his spirits sometimes and he figured it was worth it.

The more Edmund thought about home and his family, the more he missed them, and the more he missed them, the more he hated the life he was living. He couldn't figure out why Mahir was so cruel. Though he had accepted the fact that he was going to be beaten, he had never found out the reason why. Mistakes were going to happen no matter how severely they were punished. Couldn't Mahir see that? Edmund had learned from years at that horrid school back in England that reinforcement was always a better teacher than punishment, but Mahir didn't seem to have that figured out. As the days went on and Mahir only got worse, Edmund couldn't take it anymore.

160 days into his capture, Edmund finally dredged up the nerve to search for answers. He approached Nash that night, hesitant and quiet, but still searching nonetheless. At first, Nash didn't seem to notice him. He stayed curled up on his bed, facing the wall as he always did. Edmund had to sit on the edge of the bed and poke Nash's shoulder before he got any sort of reaction. And what a reaction it was. Nash jerked to a sitting position and looked ready to fight. The second he saw a terrified Edmund, he relaxed and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. You startled me." Nash said quietly.

"Sorry…" Edmund bit his lip.

"What do you need?"

"I was…I was wondering if I could…maybe…ask you something." Edmund's eyes fell to the bed, too shy and nervous to meet Nash's gaze anymore.

"Shoot."

"Why is Mahir so cruel?"

Nash stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long time before finally letting out a small sigh. "He's not the worst, but he has his own theories about slaves."

"What kind of theories?"

"He says that bruises fade and broken bones mend, but muscles, trained skills, and obedience never go away. At least, not under the right care. He's known around here for selling top notch slaves, and he's hell-bent on keeping that reputation. I mean, look at you, for example. When you first came here, you had been half-starved by whoever had you before and you had that bit of a rebellious streak. Now, you've got muscles, you know how to tend gardens, you've proven you're good with horses, you weaned foals, hell, you even got that unbreakable stallion of Mahir's to start to trust you. Not to mention how well you behaved around the guests, how much Asha likes you, and how you don't complain in the slightest when Mahir hits you. Those are some great qualities for future homes."

"Oh…" Edmund had always thought that Mahir was just a cruel person, but he had never looked at it from that perspective before. "So is that why he got so mad when I just went down a wrong corridor?"

"Yeah. He wanted to teach you obedience, and the best time to start is right away. Anything else?"

"Um…yeah. Why didn't I see Mahir's son until I found them on accident?"

"No one knows much about Yasir, just that he is never around. Rumor has it he's not Mahir's and Mahir is trying to hide him from whoever Yasir does belong to, but I don't buy a word of it. Personally, I think the kid's just a bad seed in his dad's eyes. I almost feel bad for him, but he'll be out in a few years."

"Can I ask…one more question?"

Nash sighed. "Alright. One more."

"What's your story?" Edmund bit his lip when Nash looked at him sharply. "I know everyone else's, but I don't know yours."

"I don't know yours either."

"Trade off?"

"Alright. I'll go first, since you asked first," Edmund smiled weakly and sat up straight, ready to listen. "I was born on the island of Galma."

"You're Narnian?" Edmund's eyes widened a bit. He had always thought Nash was an Archenlander.

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Sorry…"

"Yes. I'm Narnian. My dad was a fisherman and my mom was a seamstress. We lived in a pretty rundown part of the island, and we never were what you would call 'fortunate' when it came to money, but we were happy. When I was thirteen years old, some Calormene men raided our little niche. They burned every house to the ground and killed most of the people. Some of us, the younger ones, they kidnapped. They killed my parents. I was pretty much a wreck, needless to say. I didn't talk, didn't pull my own weight, nothing. Of course, few of the captives did, so when we got to Calormen with the men, they sold us for pretty cheap. I was sold to a slave trader who brought me and a few Archenlander kids to this island. Mahir bought me on my fourteenth birthday and broke me within a month. I didn't put up much of a fight, of course. But after about four months of living under him, I finally started to gain my senses for the first time in a year, and I learned to toughen up. I stopped taking his shit and started standing up for myself. I guess he kind of liked that, since he hasn't sold me yet." Nash sighed. "Your turn."

Edmund sighed shakily. "Well…first…my name's not Eamon. It's Edmund. And I'm not an Archenlander. I'm a Narnian too. Well…more or less." Nash raised an eyebrow and watched him, clearly confused. "About six years ago, my siblings and I sort of…accidentally found our way here. I was a complete ass back then, and I wound up getting myself caught by the White Witch."

"Jadis? You actually met her? Wow, that's rough."

Edmund chuckled thickly. "Just a bit. So um…"

"I'm sorry for interrupting again, but…I have one question I need to ask before you continue." Edmund looked up at him. "You aren't...King Edmund the Just, are you? It sounds so ridiculous when I say it out loud, but you do look a lot like what I've been told he looks like, and everyone knows the story about the Kings and Queens."

Edmund closed his eyes and nodded. His shoulders sagged with relief. He couldn't believe how much better he felt now that someone knew who he was, and a fellow Narnian at that. He looked up at Nash when it got too quiet for too long. He bit his lip when he saw his friend staring at him in utter shock.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in Cair Paravel where you belong?"

"Because I was foolish." Nash frowned, silently nudging him to continue. "I had gotten sick of being followed around by guards all the time. I had just wanted one day to myself, to feel like a regular person again. Just one, and I didn't think anything bad would happen on Narnian soil with everything going so calmly recently. It took a lot of arguing, but I managed to convince my brother to let me slip away for a day. Of course, he didn't know I would be wearing civilian clothes and taking civilian gear. I didn't even have my sword with me. So I went out, and I don't remember much of it, but Phillip and I were ambushed by Calormenes, more specifically Tahj and his crew."

"Tahj? Well no wonder you were so skinny."

Edmund smirked. "Not really. I've always been on the svelte side. He just made it more obvious."

"So why didn't you tell him who you were and get yourself off that ship while you still had a chance?"

"Calormenes are…not exactly fond of our kind. Take Jadis' hatred of my siblings and me and instill it into the hearts of thousands of men, and you have the Calormen race. Tahj was no exception. I had heard a lot of stories about him, and just by looking at him, I could tell that he wasn't exactly the 'hold the defenseless King up for ransom' type. He was the more common 'kill the barbarian Kings and Queens on sight' type. So if I was going to have any hope of getting home, I couldn't tell him who I really was, and if I told any of the slaves on board with me, they might blab or he might overhear. There were too many things that could go wrong."

"How were you planning on getting back, then?"

"Well…I had kind of hoped that whoever bought me would either be someone I knew, someone who wasn't a Calormene, or someone who it would be easy to run away from. I had hoped the same for Phillip, my Horse, as well. But unfortunately we were both stuck with Mahir."

"Aslan knows he's the type to kill a Narnian on sight. He thinks I'm Archenlander. He has made it quite clear over the years that he hates our kind."

Edmund nodded. "I was afraid of that. I had figured he wanted to kill me anyway but didn't want to waste his money."

"So now what's your plan to get back home?"

"There's a plan?"

"You don't want to get out of here?" Nash tilted his head. "I never took you as a masochist."

"I want to get out of here, oh Aslan do I. I miss home so much it hurts. But I just don't see any way that could happen. Unless Phillip did escape and finds some way to send word to Peter, I just don't see it happening. I thought I had seen some noblemen I knew from when my siblings and I sailed to Redhaven before, and I've been searching for them when I go to the market, but I guess they were just here on that one day to purchase something, or visiting with someone or something along those lines. Everyone else here seems to be Calormene, and none of them look very pleasant."

"They aren't. It's late, Ema- Edmund," Edmund smiled a bit. "Off to bed."

"Yessir." Edmund went over to his bunk as he was instructed, and he fell asleep much faster than he had in ages.

The next morning, everything went like clockwork, as usual. Edmund took care of the horses, rather surprised when all Kamal did was pin his ears. That was the calmest reaction Edmund had ever got out of him, and it made him smile a bit. He really was making progress with the supposedly unbreakable stallion.

When Edmund went inside to do his household chores, Asha asked him to go to the market. She needed a few things for the kitchen, she said. He complied and went out, listening to passing conversations as always. However, there was one that caught his ear more than any other had before. Edmund made a point to spend most of his time following the pair of Calormene men, doing his best not to look suspicious.

"Have you heard about that barbarian King?" The first, older one said.

"Which one?" The other, much younger-looking answered.

"The one that's not missing, of course."

"Oh. Some things, but nothing new."

"I got word yesterday that he's finally gone crazy."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, hearing voices and all."

"Weren't they all insane to start with?" The two men laughed.

While they were enjoying themselves, and while Edmund was gripping his basket white-knuckle style, another Calormene man approached them.

"Don't embarrass yourselves," He growled. "If that were true, the Tisroc, may he live forever, would have overrun them already. I heard from a very valuable source that the remaining King's losing it, of course, but he's not crazy. He's just suicidal. Too bad he's got those sisters of his to keep him in line. Not to mention that rage problem of his is going full blast. That is why the Tisroc, may he live forever, hasn't sent out troops yet. He'd probably kill them all singlehandedly."

"And what 'valuable source' is this, huh? How could you possibly have this information?"

"I recently bought a Horse that was taken from there, apparently some beast who had lived on the grounds. He just loves ranting away and saying his High King will come and burn us all. Crazy animal, that one. The High King doesn't even know we're here."

After that, the three men were lost in a sudden crowd, and Edmund heard no more of the conversation. Not that he wanted to. He bit his lip to the point where he drew blood to keep his mouth shut. Paying for the items he had gotten, Edmund ran home as quickly as he could, struggling to hide the tears streaming down his face.

When he got back, he could barely breathe from running so far, his eyes stung, and his face burned from the cold. Asha asked him what was wrong, but he didn't answer, instead taking the things he had bought into the kitchen to wash and put them away. As he worked, he glanced out the window and watched as snow began to drift to the ground. It was the first snow of the season. Edmund wondered if it was snowing at the Cair as well and began to cry once again.


	13. Lightning

**Disclaimer: **I don't own this wonderful world. I only own the lowly subcharacters.

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**68. Lightning**

It was day 163. The snow had been falling constantly for two days, burying the town under several inches of the powder. The horses were harder to take care of, especially the stallions. As long as Edmund transported the mares together, they would huddle up and follow him willingly. The foals were more or less the same, though they had never seen snow or felt such cold before and were much more apprehensive about their surroundings. The stallions were a completely different story. Most went outside willingly, almost eagerly. They would romp in the fresh snow and ignore Edmund for the most part. Some of the stallions, however, hated the weather and would refuse to go outside. With one such horse, a blue roan, it would take up to twenty minutes of pulling, coaxing, tempting with feed, and a good slap on the rump or two before he would leave the barn, and just as long with the same routine before he would get far enough into the gate of his pasture before Edmund could close him in.

By the time Edmund would get inside, he would be soaked and frozen stiff. Asha was quick to hang his clothes in front of the fire and give him a warm set, but it couldn't keep the chill from reaching his very bones and make him shiver for a good hour before finally warming up. Edmund had never been fond of winter, even as a child. After dealing with Jadis' form of cold and feeling it so deeply for so long, he had grown to loathe the season. He was more susceptible to the cold temperatures than most people he knew, and usually on the worst days he would have his siblings to snuggle up to and plenty of thick, hot blankets to wrap up in. But not here. Here, he has no one who would rub his arms and kiss his forehead. Here, he was given only two blankets to stave off the cold and only his own body heat to warm those up. Here, the cold felt so much worse.

It wasn't until five days after the snow had started that it slowed to a stop. Edmund had to wade through nearly two feet of snow and ice to get to the horses in the morning, though by dusk the ice had melted for the most part and Edmund only had the snow to deal with. The cold had begun to stick with him, even through the warm clothes and blankets, to the point where nothing could shake it and he was constantly shivering. It gave him quite a bit more grief than usual with Mahir, as well. Guests were starting to become a regular thing, coming every two to three days. Luckily no one had been sold, and Edmund was happy about that, but when he shivered while setting the table and made the china clink together, causing a glance from a guest or two each time, Mahir would grow red in the face and give him an extra few minutes of beating for each time it had happened.

Even when Edmund wasn't shaking like there was an earthquake, he was in pain. His left shoulder, the one that had been dislocated three times over, had grown weak and sensitive due to the amount of misuse and no cordial to heal it properly. The cold made his shoulder ache, sometimes badly enough that he could only use one arm when leading the horses out or washing the dishes. Mahir, apparently noticing his weakness and not wanting to permanently damage his slave, made a point to avoid his shoulder when he was hitting Edmund, but it didn't help much. Simply turning too quickly or stumbling from being hit would send sparks of pain up and down his arm and neck, making him wince. He knew that couldn't be a good sign, but he didn't have the time or means to care, let alone do anything about it.

On day 171, Edmund's shoulder was doing a bit better and he was able to stave off the shivering enough that the plates didn't make any noise when he set the table. He had to put out two extra place settings for a pair of noble-looking Calormene men. One was old and beginning to gray while the other looked as though he was just reaching his twenties. They reminded Edmund greatly of the men he had heard mocking Peter in the marketplace, and he had to bite his tongue to the point where it bled to keep himself from saying or doing anything stupid. He stayed as far away from them as he could while they visited, not caring to hear what they had to say or why they were hanging around. It wasn't until after Edmund had put the horses away and gone up to bed that he regretted doing so.

Mahir and Asha led the men upstairs to see the slaves, as they had done with every set of guests that came by. This time, however, the men looked interested in the people that were ready to doze off for the night. They were particularly interested in the girls, it seemed, and when they whispered a question to Mahir, he led them straight to Hanah. He explained that she was the miracle girl who tended to the horses. The three men haggled over her as she watched on, sickly pale and glancing at the others as they talked. Eventually they settled on a price, eight hundred and fifty crescents, and Hanah was led away. Once all of them had filtered out of the room, Basam blinked and looked over at Nash.

"Eight hundred and fifty crescents? They must be joking." Basam was shaking his head and staring at his hand, as though trying to figure out what that much money would look like.

"I've never seen one sell for that much," Nash admitted. "But you can't deny that she's got talent, and they probably sold her horse with her."

"I didn't think about the horse," Basam admitted. He stood up and went over to the window, peeking out at the barn that was just in view. "You're right, they're leading the mare out. Well, I'm glad those two won't be separated, anyway. I wonder how much they paid for Hanah individually?"

"No idea, but probably a lot."

Edmund looked over at the two girls who were left. Both had been extremely quiet, and he was worried. Jenae had a habit of bonding with the girls far too much to be safe, and though she and Hanah had never been very close, she had taken a certain liking to her after Lamis and Calla were gone. Now, she looked completely shattered with a small Nasrin patting her back and whispering something in her ear. Edmund could only hope that Jenae sold before little Nasrin. He didn't want to see what would happen to her if she was the last girl left.

Luckily, no one had to see that happen. Three days after Hanah had been sold, 174 days into Edmund's capture, the largest group of guests to enter the house yet entered the house. Edmund set up six extra place settings, wondering how many slaves this batch would purchase. He snuck a peek as the large group filtered in. A middle-aged man and his equally-aged wife came in first, followed by four young girls. The oldest looked to be just a shade under her teen years and she was followed by three mini versions of herself, fraternal triplets about seven years of age from what Edmund could see. He couldn't help but smile a bit at how happy they looked and how the girls giggled at every little thing. They seemed to be especially fond of anything that was pink or purple, and all through dinner they made quite a loud fuss about how beautiful the flower paintings Asha owned were. No matter where he was, Edmund could hear the girls' adorable squeals of laughter. For being the daughters of a Calormene man who was probably looking to purchase some abused, terrorized slaves, they were quite a cute bunch. Even as Edmund tended to the horses outside, he could hear the girls bouncing around and playing in the parlor.

As usual, about fifteen minutes after Edmund had gotten upstairs and into bed, the large family was escorted up the stairs to visit the slaves. Edmund had assumed that the girls would wait in the hallway as their father picked out whom he would purchase, but that wasn't the case at all. Instead, when the door opened, the girls were standing at the front and looking rather excited. They looked up at their father, and when he smiled and nodded, the four girls rushed into the room, a ball of laughter.

The slaves watched on, quite confused, as they spread out, each one looking at a slave by themselves until they had all inspected every one. They gathered in a corner of the room and tried to whisper among themselves (though they failed quite splendidly and their entire conversation could be heard throughout the house) as to which one they liked best. Jenae sat up a bit straighter when it became quite obvious that they had all taken to her, and she smiled for the first time in over a month when the triplets tackled and hugged her. The eldest stood off just a ways and smiled, but it was fairly obvious that she wanted to join in the pile as well, and with a gentle nudge from her mother who had just walked in, she too hugged her new nanny.

It was the first time Edmund had seen a slave be taken away not only willingly but happily. With a quick, silent goodbye to Nasrin and a wave to the boys, Jenae raced the four girls out to the cart, losing to the triplets and tying with the elder. The four remaining slaves watched out the window in stunned silence as she was taken away. They could see her snuggling with one triplet while the other two were taught how to properly braid Jenae's hair by their older sister. It was a sight none of them had seen before and were sure they would never see again.

Utterly confused and rather uplifted by the joyful visit, the group was taken completely by surprise when another family, this one consisting of a father, mother, and son, came to visit the next day. The process went as it always did, though this group was far less perky than the last. The son was young, not even ten years old, but appeared to take after his father quite well. He was very stiff and silent, observing his surroundings with a careful expression. Edmund thought he would make a good soldier one day. When the family came upstairs, the father and son went from slave to slave, hovering with the boys and generally ignoring Nasrin. They stuck with Nash for the longest, but when Mahir told them he wasn't yet for sale, they moved on. When they shoved Edmund's shoulder too hard and he winced, they frowned and looked over at Mahir. They seemed to relax a bit when he admitted that that one also wasn't up for sale yet, and relaxed more when they found themselves quite pleased with Basam. Hardly a word was said between the adults as Basam was taken away, and not a word was spoken as Nash and Edmund watched him be carted off into the distance.

"Now what happens?" Edmund whispered once Basam was out of sight.

"Now we have the house to ourselves." Nasrin looked up when Nash spoke. "It's why Mahir waits until winter to sell us. There's not much to do except for tend to the house and horses and there won't be until the spring thaw. That's when he'll buy more slaves, when there's stuff worth doing around here."

Nash, it turned out, was quite right. Even with all of his household chores, Edmund finished them fairly quickly and it was quite common to find him wandering the hallways looking for something to do. Eventually he sucked up his fear of the cold and spent his vacant afternoons with the horses. He would always come inside with blue lips and shiver for an hour or more before finally warming up, but he figured it was worth it. He was making great progress with Kamal, and that in itself made up for the cold. Nowadays, whenever the black stallion saw him, his ears would perk up a bit and he would take a few steps toward Edmund. When Edmund approached him, he wouldn't come closer, but he wouldn't back away either. It wouldn't be long before he allowed his caretaker to saddle, and maybe one day, ride him. Edmund missed riding a lot, and if he ever toughened up like Nash said he would, he would have to ask Mahir if he could ride one of the horses one day.

Apparently, staying out in the cold wasn't the best idea Edmund had ever had. On day 185, Edmund found himself sick. Body aches, a headache, and a cough plagued him severely. At first, he shrugged it off as a simple cold. When the fever began to set in, however, he thought that perhaps it was worse than that. He tried to do his chores as best as he could, but that didn't last long. Two days after getting sick, Edmund was washing the dishes, or, attempting to, when he found himself lying on the floor. Wondering how he had gotten there, he struggled to get up, but to no avail. His muscles ached too badly to use, and he was racked with chills. He lay on the freezing floor for a good half hour before Asha found him. She struggled to help him up the stairs and helped him crawl into bed. Suddenly exhausted, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

For the next two days, he found himself slipping in and out of consciousness. When he was awake, he would often find himself staring deliriously into an empty room, rotating between waves of freezing and burning. Every now and again, though, he would wake to see Nash tending to him. Nash was always talking to him, whether he was aware of Edmund watching him or not. He would tell him what had happened during the day and how worried he and the girls were. He said that Asha would check on him frequently, giving him any remedy she could think of. His fever was high, Nash said, and if it didn't go down within another couple of days, Asha would send for a Healer.

One day, day 189 as Edmund found out later, he woke once again to Nash telling him about the day. There were guests again, three of them. He hadn't seen them for himself yet, but with how much of a fuss Asha and Mahir were making, he could only assume that they were very, very rich. He figured they had gotten wind that one slave was left and wanted to claim her before anyone else did, though why they would come for an eleven year old rather than someone older and more experienced Nash could only guess. As Nash talked, Edmund once again slipped into the wonderful world of unconsciousness.

When he woke, it was dark out, and Nash and Nasrin were in their beds. Through the haze, Edmund could hear footsteps coming up the corridor. He shifted and frowned a bit, sending Nash running for his charge. He felt his friend stroke some hair away from his forehead and gently place his hand on Edmund's flushed skin, biting his lip a bit at how hot it was. He watched as Nash looked up at the door, which had just opened, nervously, but didn't dare follow his gaze.

"Emad, someone has come for you." Mahir's all-too-familiar seller line echoed through the room.

Despite the pain it caused him, Edmund stiffened. If his skin hadn't already been chalk white, he would have paled. He clung to Nash's sleeve weakly, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering. He didn't want to go. He couldn't be sold. He just couldn't. Who would want him when he was so sick and weak? He hadn't even been here a full six months yet, let alone the general year and a half. He whimpered weakly when Nash didn't defend him. Instead, he seemed to almost let Edmund go.

"These people have come for you. You'll go home with them tonight." Edmund squirmed a bit, silently begging Nash to say something, to save him.

"Edmund?" The pained, nearly silent voice struck Edmund like lightning. He froze in shock, blinking before slowly turning his head to see who had called for him. When he saw his sisters in the doorway and his brother rushing for him, tears streaming down his white cheeks, he did the only sensible thing he could think of that his flu-ravaged body would allow. He passed out.


	14. Thunder

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry this chapter took me so long. It was particularly hard to write. I'm not quite sure why, but here it is now, and I hope it's up to snuff. In more exciting news, voting has started for the contest I mentioned a couple of chapters ago. If you are interested, the link to the voting page is here: http:/ community. livejournal. com/ western _ wood/ 6151. Html . A huge congratulations and good luck to the other stories and authors who made it onto the ballot!

One more quick note. I am going to be going on vacation tomorrow, so the next chapter might not be up until next Monday. I'll do my best to get it up sooner, but just in case I don't, here's the explanation ahead of time :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them

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**69. Thunder**

Edmund woke up to the bitter sting of the chilly weather. He frowned and squeezed his eyes shut, shifting a bit to get warmer. He was barely conscious, but he was awake enough to feel someone brush their hand along his forehead and hush him gently. A voice too muffled by Edmund's exhaustion to recognize told him to lie still and go back to sleep, that whoever it was had him and would keep him safe. Edmund happily complied, relaxing a bit and falling back to sleep.

After what felt like minutes, but was in reality a couple of hours, Edmund awoke once again. He shifted weakly, keeping his eyes closed. The bite of cold air was gone and he had the feeling of being rocked gently. For the first time in days he no longer felt sick, and for the first time in well over a month his shoulder no longer pained him. Edmund sat up weakly, trying to think of a rational explanation for what was going on, other than death. He didn't feel dead. He pinched his arm lightly and winced at the pain. Nope, definitely not dead, and not in a dream, either.

"Well good morning." A familiar voice resonated through the room.

Edmund sat up straighter and looked to his left, smiling weakly at Nash. Rather than notice the wooden walls, the lack of decoration, and the small round window at one end of the room, Edmund noticed how clean and…happy…Nash looked. He couldn't remember ever seeing Nash look happy before. Edmund's smile slowly warped into a confused frown as he tilted his head a bit.

"What's with the face? Are you feeling alright? I told them you were tired…they were really nervous when you didn't want to wake up. Maybe I should have let them harass you." The happiness quickly faded from Nash's expression, which instead turned to guilt and worry.

Edmund tried to figure out what he meant by "they". Surely his brother and sisters hadn't come for him. His fever was through the roof, and he had probably just been delirious. It wouldn't have been the first time that he had seen something that wasn't there because of a fever. But what else could explain the lack of pain? Edmund, for the first time, looked at his surroundings. It was clear that they were on a ship, though it was much nicer than Tahj's slave ship.

"Nash…" Edmund's voice was soft and full of apprehension. "Who's 'they'?"

"Well the High King and the Queens, of course…" Nash wasn't at all comforted by his question, nor the look of shock and hope Edmund gave him. "Maybe you should go back to sleep…you don't look right."

But Edmund didn't hear him. Edmund flew out of his bed and dashed up the stairs. He navigated the ship easily – he had helped create the designs a few years back – and quickly found himself on deck. Standing a dozen or so feet off, he saw Susan blocking Peter's path to the door and Lucy standing just off to the side, looking nervous.

"Peter, you heard Nath. Edmund's exhausted. He went through a lot. Just let him sleep."

"He's been asleep for two hours, Susan. I want to see my brother." Edmund almost winced at how different Peter's voice sounded from what he remembered. It was full of pain, longing, hurt, worry, desperation, hopelessness. It didn't match his strong, tall body in the slightest.

"Just be patient. I want to see him too, but if we rush him all at once he might panic or pass out again, and he'll just be out for another two hours."

"But Susan-" Peter cut himself off, stiffening and going pale. Edmund bit his lip in worry before he realized that his brother was staring right at him. "Ed…?"

Before Edmund could blink, let alone form any sort of response, his brother slipped around Susan and rushed for him. He engulfed Edmund in his large arms, pressing him to his chest tighter than he ever had before. Edmund could feel his brother's tears dripping onto his dark hair and seeping down to his scalp.

"Don't you ever do that again, do you hear me?" The anger with which the words were meant to be said was drowned by the fear and relief. Edmund could only nod. "Don't you ever. Promise me." Edmund nodded again. "Stop it. I said promise, not agree. Please." The younger brother winced at the terrified tone in his brother's voice.

"I promise." He winced again, this time because of how different his own voice sounded.

After several long, but not long enough, minutes, Peter finally let Edmund breathe again. He sighed shakily and took a step back, scanning his brother with a sharp eye. He frowned at how shabby Edmund looked, and Edmund frowned at him for the same thing. The High King didn't look at all like Edmund remembered. He was thinner. His cheekbones stood out prominently. His hair was messy and his clothes didn't fit him right anymore. His eyes had lost their sparkle and he didn't carry his shoulders with pride like he used to.

"Oh Ed…" Peter's voice finally broke the silence. "I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner."

"I'm sorry I didn't make it easy." Edmund blushed slightly and looked down. "So…um…" He gulped. "How did you find me?"

"We found Phillip first."

Edmund's head jerked up. "What? Where? Is he okay? Was he hurt?"

"He's fine. Worried about you. He refused to leave your side while we were headed for the ship, and it took more coaxing than you could imagine getting him to let you be taken below to sleep."

"Where is he? Can I see him?"

Peter gave a small, pathetic excuse for a smile. He whistled, and the sound of hoof beats on wood echoed across the ship. Edmund spun around, staring widely at the Stallion that stood before him. Peter was right. Phillip looked fine. There wasn't a scratch on his body, not a hair out of place. He looked a bit thin, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Edmund tried to think of something to say, anything, but nothing came. Instead, he simply rushed the Stallion and wrapped his arms around his neck. Phillip engulfed Edmund much like Peter had, refusing to let him go for a couple of minutes. Once the two separated, much like Peter had, Phillip looked Edmund up and down, taking in his condition.

Edmund didn't know what to say to his friend. He had plenty of things he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure which of them to say first. He blinked and turned his head upward when he felt someone wrap their arms around his stomach. He met his brother's eyes and smiled weakly.

"How did you get me out of there? How is it we aren't all dead? And…why are we still at port?" Edmund hadn't realized until just then that they were still docked.

Peter nuzzled his forehead playfully. "We were waiting for you to wake up, so we could be sure that you would be okay to travel."

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Edmund's voice was still soft and weak, even more so that time.

"Lucy's cordial can fix the physical symptoms of abuse, but not the mental or emotional ones. And, unfortunately, it can't make you any stronger. We weren't sure if you would be ready to leave. We weren't sure if you would be strong enough to sit or stand, let alone bear the sea for a few days."

"Oh…" Edmund thought for a moment. Peter had a good point. Standing with him holding his little brother up wasn't too bad, but when Peter let go and there wasn't anything else to support his weight, Edmund felt rather dizzy. Peter couldn't hold him for the entirety of the trip, though there wasn't a doubt in Edmund's mind that he wanted to. "I'll be alright. I want to go home."

Peter smiled shakily. "Then home it is. We just need to wait for a little while longer for a few extra passengers."

"What do you mean?"

"The captives that lived with you are coming with us on this trip."

"They are?" Edmund looked up at Peter hopefully and smiled a bit when Peter nodded.

"The next few months are going to be pretty hectic at Cair Paravel, just to warn you. We're going to be sending troops here over the next few months to rid this place of the Calormenes. Usually we would send them in all at once, but I'm sure you know why we're going to go so slow," Edmund shook his head, though he had an idea. "We're going to have to go door-to-door and search every home for captives. Once enough homes have been cleared and enough captives found, those captives will board a ship and come to the Cair. Here, we'll sort out where they need to be sent and we'll give them an escort so they aren't taken again."

Edmund wanted to ask questions, find out details. Who would they be raiding first? Would he be allowed to see who came to the Cair, or would they want to keep him in his room to rest and avoid seeing all of the abuse? Would they let him see any of his friends? He had other questions, too. Ones that didn't pertain to the search and rescue. He wanted to know the entire story. What had happened to the Cair, his siblings, Phillip, everything from the moment he vanished. Luckily for Edmund, Peter read the questions in his eyes and gave a small smile. Just as he opened his mouth and was about to explain, someone called Peter's name. He turned his head around and searched for whoever it had been. A Faun sailor was motioning for him. He frowned a bit and nodded, turning back to Edmund.

"They need me for something. I'll be right back. I promise."

"It's okay, go." Edmund nudged him gently.

Peter bit his lip and nodded, gently combing his hand through Edmund's hair before letting go of him and walking over to the Faun. The second Peter left him, Edmund found himself engulfed by his sisters. He smiled weakly as they squeezed him tighter, blocking any view of the outside world he might have had with just one of them on him.

"Oh Edmund, we were so worried!" Lucy's voice came from behind him, and he turned his head to kiss her temple lightly.

"What happened to you? What did they do to you?" It was Susan's turn to talk, and Edmund's answer was a kiss to her temple as well.

"You should have seen Peter when he found you, Ed. That slave trader is lucky he's still alive. The wife was sweet, though, and seemed very willing to help us." He nodded, knowing that that was something Asha would have done. She was always sweet to him and he couldn't believe for a moment that she approved of what her husband did to what he owned.

The girls continued to swarm him with questions. He stayed silent for the most part, too tired and shocked to say much. They didn't seem to mind. They told him how terrible he looked and how they were going to fix him up, how they had a huge feast waiting back home with all of his favorite foods and sweets, how they had kept his sword and armor perfectly polished for his return, even though he was rather certain that they didn't think he would be returning. They told him that, along with the meal, a hot bath was waiting for him. Edmund couldn't believe how much he missed a hot bath.

Within a few minutes, Peter had returned and joined the group hug, resting his chin on Lucy's head. Phillip, too, marched up to them and lipped at Edmund's hair affectionately. They split apart hesitantly when they heard someone coming up the stairs behind them. Edmund turned and saw Nash standing in the doorway, smiling at the bunch.

"Hello Nath." Susan greeted him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I was a bit worried about the kid." He smiled a bit and looked at Edmund pointedly.

The group took a few steps toward Nash to make him more included. Edmund, however, hung back. He wanted to get closer, but his feet wouldn't move. A strong, cold wind began to pick up, and without the cover of his siblings, Edmund began to shiver. The boat rocked on the large waves, sending Edmund's equilibrium reeling. It only took a few seconds for his sisters and brother to realize he wasn't with them, but during those few seconds, Edmund's condition had declined rapidly.

"Peter, catch him, he's-" Edmund vision went dark, and he didn't hear the end of Susan's sentence.

He woke, completely disoriented, to a blinding light shining in his eyes. He tried to move his hand to shade his eyes, but his arms were pinned. He could hear voices and felt someone rest their hand over his eyes for him.

"Let's get you below deck," Peter's unmistakable voice whispered. Edmund shook his head, clinging to his brother's shirt when a fresh wave of dizziness bowled him over. "That wasn't an offer you can decline. We're going."

Edmund felt himself be lifted up, and the blinding light once again assaulted his vision. He tried to open his eyes but his eyesight was blurred, so he went back to squeezing them shut and burying his face in Peter's chest. He felt the temperature shift from freezing to bearable as they went down the stairs, and eventually to a comfortable climate when they went into Edmund's room. He felt himself be rested on his bed, and when Peter sat next to him, he opened his eyes a bit.

"What happened?"

"You fainted," Peter bit his lip. "Maybe we should wait a few more days before we leave."

"I didn't mean about that. I'll be fine." Edmund closed his eyes again. "I mean…what happened while I was gone?"

"Oh…" Edmund nodded a bit. "Well…"

"And don't leave out anything." Edmund sat up a bit and looked at him, borderline glaring. He was thinking about when he had overheard the men saying Peter was suicidal. He didn't want his brother hiding things from him.

"I won't."

"Not one single thing, understand?"

"Of course. What's wrong, Ed?" Peter was beginning to look worried.

"Nothing…just…I want to hear everything. I've missed you all."

"We've missed you too," Peter didn't look at all satisfied with that answer, but he decided not to hover on it. "The day you went missing, Susan and Lucy started yelling at me the moment they realized you had gone with no escort. I gave them your explanation and all, but they weren't pleased. When you didn't come back, they got even more angry. Then we began to get worried, and by nightfall we were rather frantic. Oreius, some troops, and I went out looking for you. One of the Dogs found your scent first, and we followed it. It led to a fairly dense part of the woods, and we had to search a bit before we found the dead Calormene and the arrow in the tree."

"Dead Calormene?" Edmund's eyes widened. He didn't know he had killed someone.

Peter nodded and frowned. "You had stabbed him in the chest, with a knife it looked like. You don't remember?" Edmund shook his head.

"I don't remember much of what happened that day, to be quite honest. After leaving the Cair, it's all kind of a blur," Peter bit his lip. "I'm sorry, keep going."

"Alright…we found him and the arrow, and several spots of blood, but you and Phillip were gone. The scent led to the Rush River, and then stopped. We searched for you for weeks. Almost every citizen from both Archenland and Narnia helped, and within six weeks, every square inch of the countries had been searched. A few Calormenes had been found in Archenland and brought to King Lune for questioning, but they didn't know anything about you. They admitted that they were prowling for slaves, so we arrested them, but they were innocent in your case.

"I hate to admit it, but…I was starting to lose hope. I thought you were dead. I wanted to search Calormen. I thought maybe the men had taken you there, perhaps for the slave trade or to take to the Tisroc so he could kill you himself. It took a couple of weeks of planning, but eventually a small team of soldiers were able to disguise themselves as Calormene slaves and me as a noble and we infiltrated the country. We searched for 68 days. We screened any city that was rich enough to house slaves. We asked around, we searched, we did everything we could. We came across several hopefuls, but none turned out to be you. 127 days after you had gone missing, I got word from the girls that there was trouble with the Giants in the North again and they needed us. I wanted to stay, but without my back up, there was no way I could. I had to give up."

At this point, Peter began to cry. He had been tearing up throughout the telling of the story, but at long last the tears began to escape. He wiped them away weakly, chewing on his lip to keep from crying harder.

"It's okay, Peter." Edmund whispered, wiping away the tears that his brother missed.

Peter shook his head. "I had to give up on you. I had to give you up for dead. It was cruel. You could have been just ten feet away from me, and I gave up on you."

"But I wasn't, and you didn't. You had a responsibility, Pete. My possible safety cannot be put in front of the threatened safety of thousands of our citizens. You made the right choice."

Peter gulped and nodded, steeling himself for the rest of the story. "I spent four weeks in the North. We lost a lot of men, but we won. The Giants went back to Ettinsmoor and we returned home. I didn't really care, though. I was numb to it all. All I could think about was you, and what you would say, and what you would have done, and how you would have slapped me for thinking the things I did."

"What sort of things?" Edmund watched him patiently.

"I wanted to die, Ed. I couldn't live without you. I can't. Susan and Lucy took to guarding me every minute of every day, and when they couldn't, they had a soldier do it for them. They knew what I was thinking, and I couldn't tell if they were worried or furious. Probably both. They were so gentle and careful with me, but if I did anything remotely worrisome, they would explode. I spent most of my days training with Oreius. I was too distracted to do much, but I was able to get in a few hits. You'll have to ask him to show you the scars. He scolded me quite a bit for losing it like that when we were both unprotected.

"I was a hopeless case for quite some time. I even tried it once, ending my life, I mean. Obviously it didn't work, though if it wasn't for poor Lucy and her cordial, it would have."

Edmund trembled. He took his brother's hand and squeezed hard, pulling himself close. He never wanted to leave Peter's side again. Not after hearing about that. He knew Peter had been suicidal, or, he had been fairly certain that he knew. He hadn't expected his elder brother to actually try anything, though. Peter wrapped his arms around Edmund's shoulders tightly, burying his face in Edmund's hair before continuing.

"Susan was furious. She screamed at me for hours. Lucy made me feel more guilty than I could have imagined with just one look, and everyone else made it quite clear what I would have given up and how many people needed me. After that, I gained a bit of sense, but not all of it. I refused to do anything anymore. I stopped training, helping in the court, eating, doing my lessons, everything. I spent my time either sitting on my throne or lying in your bed. You were all I could think about, at least, until about the 184th day of you being gone. That was the day Phillip found us. You'll have to ask him for his story. I think he would prefer he told you. But he found us and refused any care until he had told us exactly what sort of predicament and shape you were in. He looked terrified, and he was in such a rush to get back to you. So was I, but we were forced to wait until morning to set out to find you. Phillip and I were a couple of nervous wrecks on the sail to the island, and when we got there, we were all shocked at how many Calormenes we saw. We hadn't known the island had been so overrun. Our soldiers, sisters, and I went through the city, following Phillip's directions until we reached where you were. Most of the soldiers stayed outside and guarded the house while a few, two Dogs and a Tiger, guarded us inside. Mahir looked ready to kill us, quite literally, but he nearly fainted at the sight of the Tiger and apparently thought better of it.

"We asked to see his slaves, but he said he always insisted upon dinner first. I didn't want to wait, but Susan and Lucy thought it would be a better idea to play nice for awhile. Two of our soldiers watched as they prepared the meal. Once it was finished, we watched as Nath quickly, if not expertly, set the table. Mahir apologized for the lack of decent service, saying his regular server was ill. After dinner, he made us wait in the parlor until he was sure all of his slaves were ready to be introduced to us."

"He wanted to make it look like he was selling one of us." Edmund whispered, looking down. "Only Nasrin was left for sale, and she's so young. We thought she would be the one to be sold."

"At first, I think Mahir thought we wanted her too. He said there was only one that was ready, that Nath wasn't for sale and his third hadn't been with him long enough to be sold yet. Eventually, we got too impatient in the parlor and demanded he take us to you. We told him we wanted the third slave, the one he had had for half of a year. He wasn't pleased, but all it took was a growl from the Tiger and he led us upstairs.

"I nearly died when I saw you. You looked terrible. I had never seen you so pale and skinny, and you looked almost delirious with fever. Lucy started crying when you tried to squirm away from us, and before I could get to you, you had passed out. Susan started screaming at Mahir as I held you and Lucy gave you her cordial. I've never seen Susan lose it like that before. The Dogs had followed us upstairs and looked ready to maul Mahir, but his wife stopped Susan from giving them the order. I don't remember what she said to Susan, but apparently whatever it was, it was enough to spare Mahir his life. Susan joined us on the bed with you. Once Nath saw that you weren't feverish anymore, he got off the bed and pinned Mahir to a wall. He punched the Calormene in the face and the man fell to the ground, unconscious with one hit. Nath smiled and said he'd been waiting five years for that." Edmund couldn't help but smirk a bit.

"Once he was down, Nasrin finally got off of her bed and came toward us. She was so shy and quiet, but really sweet. She asked us who we were and if you were okay, and she looked so excited when we told her who we were. We promised her we'd get her out of there, and she should be here soon. She needed to get a few things, and she wanted to say goodbye to Asha and Sanaa. We arrested Mahir and he's on another ship right now, ready to be sent back to Calormen. His children and wife will be boarding another ship tomorrow along with several other families, but that's beside the point.

"We waited for a little while for you to wake up, but when you wouldn't, Lucy started to worry, You know how someone will usually wake up within a few minutes of her giving them the cordial, and when you didn't, we started to fret a bit. Nath, though, said that you had been through a lot and you deserved the sleep. We took you downstairs and waited with you while Nath got a cart and a couple of horses together. After that, we took you to the ship, you slept for a couple of hours, and you know the rest from there."

Edmund nodded and looked up at his brother. Peter looked so exhausted and defeated, and it broke Edmund's heart. It was obvious how much he had blamed himself and how much he had suffered.

"Peter…can you promise me something?" Edmund whispered.

"Anything."

"Promise you'll stop punishing yourself. It wasn't your fault, and you have me now. People need you, and I need you. You can work on punishing Mahir instead. It's like thunder, Peter. You've had your quick, loud, terrifying ordeal. Now it's Mahir's turn to suffer the consequences of the long wait with the big, dragged out finale."

Peter smiled weakly. "I'll do my best."


	15. Storm

**Author's Note: **I am once again going on a short vacation, and may not be able to begin the next chapter until Saturday. I will have it up as soon as possible, but it may not be around until next week. My apologies ahead of time, and I hope I get it up sooner. Also, I am aware that it is rumored that "The Horse and His Boy" took place during the year 1014 rather than 1005 as I tentatively claim. However, as I cannot recall it ever being specifically stated, I have taken some artistic license and shifted the years.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the wonderful world of Narnia. I simply dip unfairly into Her history.

* * *

**70. Storm**

Peter and Edmund sat on Edmund's bed and talked for another hour about all they had been through. Eventually it became too much, and Peter fell asleep on Edmund's shoulder. Knowing his brother needed the rest, and still feeling worn out himself, the younger King gently lay back on the bed with his brother and fell asleep as well.

It was the morning of the next day before Lucy woke her siblings gently. Edmund noticed that Nath was not in his bed, but he didn't dwell on it. Peter shifted against him, not wanting to wake and stubborn to the last. Edmund smiled weakly and brushed some hair out of Peter's face before flicking his forehead gently, making his brother wince.

"That is no way to wake a High King." Peter muttered, still only awake in technical terms.

Lucy giggled as Edmund simply shrugged and flicked him again, enticing a small smile out of his brother. The two sat up a moment later and watched as their sister bounded out of the room, leaving them on their own.

"Are you ready to go home?" Peter's voice was still thick and somewhat slurred with sleep.

"No, I think I would much rather stay here." Edmund rolled his eyes and smirked weakly.

Peter planted a brotherly kiss on Edmund's forehead before he had a chance to protest. The two said nothing more. Rather, Peter stood and held out his hands to help his brother, who proved to be still a bit disoriented as he struggled to stand on his own. After a few seconds and more than a little bit of assistance from Peter, Edmund managed to regain his equilibrium and walk on his own up to the deck. The ship was bustling with more occupants than yesterday, and Edmund was stunned to find himself overrun by four very familiar faces.

Nasrin wrapped her arms tightly around Edmund's waist, talking quietly about how worried she was and how exciting the events were that led up to their being saved. Calla was hugging him gently, as though doting upon a younger brother, and Edmund found himself able to relax in her grip. Her hugs, though not overly frequent, were always comforting. Nath, as Edmund knew he had to learn to call him, had a hand on his shoulder and was squeezing tightly, keeping silent but expressing his shock, awe, and pride with his eyes. Akmal stood a few paces off, mimicking Nath and looking as though he was about to explode.

After a few moments, Edmund found himself beginning to panic. Though he was surrounded by people, none of them were Peter. Where had he gone? The two had been side by side just seconds ago. He wanted Peter back. He needed him. Edmund tried to turn and search for his brother, beginning to grow frantic, but the arms holding him in place would not relinquish him. They seemed unaware of his growing fear. Nasrin continued to blabber excitedly and Calla was beginning to comb his mussed hair with her fingers. The only one who seemed somewhat aware of Edmund's alarm was Nath. He frowned a bit as Edmund began to pale, and when he realized Edmund was trying to escape, he released his shoulder and took a step back.

"Calla, Nasrin, let go."

At first, Nath's words didn't seem to register. But eventually they sank in and Calla pulled away worriedly. Nasrin, who would not stop talking, jumped a bit when Calla took her by the shoulder and pulled her away gently. Never giving politeness a thought, Edmund bolted from the group and turned his head in horror. He couldn't find Peter. The crowd had seemed to grow thicker as he had been fussed over, and his brother was no longer in sight. His breathing quickened and his hands began to tremble as he fought through the horde of people. Just as he was about to slip into a full-on panic attack, Edmund felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around frantically, freezing for a moment before collapsing into the arms of a very worried and confused Peter.

"Edmund, what's wrong? What happened?"

Edmund simply shook his head, unable to answer. His entire body continued to quiver as Peter stroked his back soothingly. He bit his lip as a light tear skidded down his cheek and soaked into his brother's shirt. It was a full minute or more before he was able to calm down. Edmund was eventually able to coax himself to pull away from his brother, and he suppressed a shudder when Peter tilted his chin upward with a finger.

"Are you alright?" He frowned a bit and brushed some hair out of Edmund's face.

Edmund nodded weakly, lowering his head and fixing his gaze on the boards of the ship. He studied them intently, trying to distract himself from the embarrassment. He had been away from his brother for nearly two hundred days, and now that they had been reunited, he couldn't last five minutes?

"No you're not. Let's get you back to your room, you need more sleep."

Edmund shook his head fervently, clinging to Peter and doing his best in refusing to move. With his weakened state, staying rooted in one spot was nearly impossible, but without a fight that Peter wasn't willing to put up, he managed to keep them from going more than a couple of feet.

"Edmund, please tell me what's wrong. You're worrying me."

He simply shrugged in reply. He wasn't sure what was wrong. He couldn't figure out why the thought of not being next to Peter made him want to tremble. He didn't know why panic had risen so quickly, or why he had been so shaken by it. It wasn't as though he had anyone's safety to worry about. He was on a ship surrounded by Narnians and Archenlanders. But despite all of the sensible things he was thinking, he couldn't help but act completely insensible.

"Ed…don't do this. You're safe now. You're with me. Don't block me out," Edmund winced at the desperation in his brother's voice. "Please…"

Before Edmund could form a response, he heard footsteps. He looked up a bit, spotting a worried Nath standing a few feet off. He was watching Edmund solemnly, though he didn't seem at all surprised.

"High King Peter…if I may?" Peter looked up at Nath as well and seemed to almost be taken off guard by being called by his title.

"Nath?" He frowned a bit in confusion.

"I was just wondering if I may speak with you later on," Nath's eyes never moved from Edmund. "Not now, of course, but when you have a free moment." In other words, alone, Edmund knew.

"Certainly."

Edmund was sure Peter didn't mean to be so short with Nath. He could feel his older brother's eyes on him, and he felt guilty for forcing his brother to remain so preoccupied for so long. Had it been any other time, he would have offered to step away from the conversation, but even the thought of leaving Peter for a moment made his stomach drop and his hands quiver. He lowered his eyes back to the floorboards as Nath thanked Peter with a worried smile and left.

"Any idea what he wants to talk about?" Peter asked softly, stroking Edmund's hair.

The younger brother shook his head slightly. He had no idea what Nath could want to discuss alone. He had a sinking feeling it was about himself, but there was just a good a chance that it wasn't. There were a lot of things that Nath could want to talk about. The plan to free the slaves, what would happen to him, if he could be of any assistance, what to expect of the others, et cetera.

"Edmund, please talk to me." The desperation in Peter's voice made Edmund look up, and he bit his lip at the tears in his brother's eyes.

"I don't know what to say." Edmund whispered, dropping his head to Peter's shoulder.

"You could start by telling me what's the matter…" There was no harshness in Peter's voice whatsoever, but perfectly placed gentility and love.

No, he couldn't. Edmund couldn't bring himself to tell Peter what Mahir did to him, what he was put through. It would break Peter's heart, and more likely than not, send him on whatever ship Mahir was on and have him return a murderer. He just couldn't do that to his brother.

"I missed you so much…" Again, his words came out in a whisper.

"Oh, Edmund."

Peter pulled him tightly to his chest, hugging him and allowing his little brother to cling and sob until exhaustion would no longer permit it. Once Edmund had cried himself out and Peter's hands were beginning to tingle with rubbing his brother's back for so long, the two made their way below deck and away from the swarm of people above. Edmund allowed his brother to gently lay him on his bed and cover him with a blanket before sitting at his feet and watching nervously. Edmund pulled his knees to his chest and rolled over onto his side out of habit and a search for comfort. He scooted as close to the wall as he could go and lifted the coverlet, silently asking Peter to lie next to him. His brother complied, and the two held each other close once both were comfortable.

"There's something you're not telling me," It wasn't a question. Edmund gulped, as close to a "yes" as Peter had expected. "Please tell me. I'm here now and I'm not letting you go. I need you to talk to me, Ed."

Edmund drew in a shaky breath before formulating a reply. "What did Phillip tell you, exactly, when he returned?"

Peter spoke slowly, planning out every word perfectly before speaking them. "He said that…you were in the possession of a Calormene. A very cruel one who, from what he could see, held no reservations in hurting you. He also said that he was worried about what you may do to yourself. He wasn't sure what was wrong at the time, but he explained to us in detail how you had suffered heat stroke when you freed him, and how you had said something about being killed. He explained what had happened to both of you from the moment you were taken, but he was more concerned about the future rather than the past."

"And well he should have been." Edmund sighed before freezing and biting his lip. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Ed? What happened to you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Edmund motioned to his entire body. "It's pretty clear he starved me, though I'm ashamed to say that my getting sick was my own doing."

"And your shoulder?"

"What?" Edmund hadn't expected him to know about that. He had been unconscious in the few seconds his siblings had seen him in such a poor state before being healed, and so had been unable to complain of anything, and there hadn't been time for them to inspect him and find the bruises and cuts that riddled his body.

"When I picked you up, Nath told me to be careful of your shoulder."

"Oh…that. I had dislocated it trying to take care of one of the horses."

"Liar."

Edmund looked down. He wanted to tell the truth, especially since it was Peter he would be telling it to. He just simply couldn't bring himself. He didn't want to have to see the shattered look he knew Peter would give, the tears that would well in his brother's eyes, the pain and guilt that would move him to utter uselessness. He just wouldn't be able to bear it. When he knew Peter was ready and braced, perhaps he would tell him. But not now. Not when he was still in shock over finding his brother. Not when the pain of losing him and the guilt of blaming himself was so fresh.

For the moment, though, he couldn't think of what to say to him. He was lying, and if anyone could tell when Edmund was lying, it was Peter. The two had always had a sense for that, knowing when something was off with the other.

"I'm sorry. I just…I don't want to talk about it. Please." Edmund fixed his gaze on the bedspread.

Peter sighed, not unkindly. "Alright, Ed. I understand. I just wish you would say so instead of lying to me, alright?" Edmund nodded weakly. "Thank you."

Edmund hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he found himself waking to a much darker room. He was alone, and the more the realization sunk in, the more the panic rose. He jerked to a sitting position and stood up as quickly as possible before succumbing to a head rush and sinking back to the bed. Once it had passed, he stood up again, slower this time, and raced out the door. He headed swiftly for the stairs, too blinded by nightfall and his hurry to pay much attention to exactly where he was going.

As he ran up the stairwell, he flew squarely into something big and hard. His feet lost their grip on the stairs and he found himself tumbling downward. A shout of surprise and fear filled the sparse hallway before he hit the landing with a sickening crack. He heard more than saw a dark figure rush for him, and smelled more than felt the arms that immediately engulfed his tiny frame.

"Are you alright?" His worried brother's voice floated down to him.

"I couldn't find you." Edmund whispered through the stars that were swimming before him.

"I'm here. I'm sorry I left. I hadn't expected you to wake up, or for me to be gone so long."

Edmund said nothing as Peter carried him back to his room. He began to protest weakly when Peter set him down, but shut up when his brother sat down next to him and brushed his hair soothingly. Edmund winced when he passed over the bump that was sure to become much larger.

"Nothing serious, I don't think. No concussion I'm sure." Despite the positive news, Peter still sounded worried, and something else. Hurt, it almost seemed like.

"Where did you go?"

"Nath wanted to speak with me for a moment."

"Oh…that's right. I had forgotten. What about?"

"Just…things."

"Now who is withholding information?" Edmund frowned.

Peter looked down in shame. "It was about you."

Edmund paled. "What did he say?"

"Not too much. He refused to go into detail, said he figured you would want to do that yourself. He just said you went through a lot, and we need to step carefully around you. He said that…that we shouldn't expect you to be the same person when you left," Peter was beginning to tear up, and Edmund swallowed his frustration and squeezed his brother's knee. "Please tell me you're still the same person."

Edmund sat up weakly and said nothing as Peter began to cry into his shoulder. He stroked his brother's hair soothingly, trying to think of something reassuring to tell him that wasn't a lie.

"I wish I could, Peter. I really do," At this, Peter cried harder. "But if I'm not right now, I will be. I promise."

"Swear?" Peter sounded so small, and it killed Edmund.

"Swear."

The two spent the rest of the evening on Edmund's bed, once again falling asleep snuggled up to each other. Dawn came and went, and by the time Edmund woke up, he found himself facing a wide awake Peter and a midday sun shining through the window. He rubbed his eyes weakly and propped himself up on one arm.

"What time is it?" He mumbled.

"Past noon. Susan's going to bring us lunch soon. We've cast off, and we'll be back in Narnia in a couple of days. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

It was obvious that Peter was unsatisfied with such a short answer, but his protest was interrupted by a clatter of dishes announcing Susan's arrival. She stumbled into the room, looking far too focused on the plates of food to be safe. She carefully rested the tray on Edmund's bed, struggling to keep things steady as she forced the drinks on Peter. He watched her stupidly for a moment before swooping in to help, giving Edmund his water and plate and taking his own. Once she was free of her burden, Susan sagged down onto the bed and looked at her younger brother with a worried smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine." He answered again, giving a small smile.

"Are you sure? You've been sleeping an awful lot, and you look so thin." Susan brushed a hand over his cheekbone and frowned.

"Since when have I ever been fat enough for you to be satisfied?" Edmund's smile turned into a smirk.

"Not fat, just not skinny. You've hardly been more than skin and bones, and what little fat you did have is gone. It can't be healthy."

"Then I'll leave it to you to fix me."

Susan smiled a bit and nodded. Just as she was about to say something, Lucy bounded into the room excitedly. She, too, wanted a turn to see her brother, it seemed, and she had been patient long enough. She gently climbed onto Edmund's bed and settled herself in his lap, fourteen though she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist gently and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder.

The four sat together for what seemed like hours, talking about nothing of great importance. The girls seemed hesitant to dredge up what had happened to Edmund, waiting, instead, for him to tell them on his own time and terms. They spoke mostly of the Cair, from little things, such as how well his corn had grown to things as great as the battle between Narnia and the Ettin Giants to the North. They picked at how much Edmund had changed physically, with his hair, weight, and how he looked as though he had tanned nicely but had, as usual, lost it quickly. Edmund was glad for the information, and the distraction. He missed these meaningless yet memorable talks between his siblings and himself, and he wished he could make himself talk more.

Eventually, the siblings ran out of things they wished to talk about at that moment. Edmund, missing Phillip greatly, excused himself. He rushed to the small stables as quickly as he could, struggling to keep the panic to a minimum before he got there. Luckily he managed to succeed and found his Horse before he began to show any real signs of his fear.

"Edmund," Phillip greeted him with a slight bow of his head. The worry and relief in his voice was evident. "How are you?"

"I'm alright, you? I've missed you." Edmund walked over to him and rested against his shoulder, leaning his head into Phillip's neck.

"I've missed you as well. I'm doing well, now that I know you're safe."

Edmund nodded meekly. "What happened to you after I left the gate open? Mahir said he had killed you…brought back your meat and everything." The memory of it made Edmund's stomach turn.

"He told you what?" Phillip's ears pinned back sharply. "He did no such thing. He never saw me again after he took you away from me."

"Did you ever see him?"

"In a way. I followed you to the house to make sure you were safe, and watched as two of the captives took you upstairs. I saw that Calormene through a window, and I bolted just before he came outside."

"You're sure he didn't see you then?"

"Positive. He went straight to the smokehouse and then back inside."

"What happened to you afterward?" Edmund was beginning to feel weak again, whether from hunger or shock he wasn't quite sure, but he did his best to hide it.

"I stayed around the house overnight, listening to make sure you were safe. When dawn came, I had to leave or else I would have been caught. I hated leaving you there, but you went through so much trouble for me…I wasn't going to squander it. I made it to the market after an hour or so, and for the first couple of hours there, no one took much notice of me. There were a lot of horses in my similar state, and when I hung near them, no one looked up.

"I was eventually able to find a pair of such horses who were being loaded onto a ship. Looking back, I know it was rather foolish of me to follow, but I didn't see any other ships docked nearby, or any other horses that I could take cover with. I followed them on board where I was quickly spotted as not one of their group. Apparently there is no honor among Calormenes, for none of the crew offered to find my proper owner. They placed me in a stall, and we sailed for several days until we reached Calormen.

"Once there, I was sold at a rather large auction. I was bought by a servant boy, and at first I was afraid I would have to deal with the same treatment as before. To my surprise, though, I was delivered to a grand palace and given as a gift to one Lasaraleen Tarkheena." At this, Phillip smirked as only a Horse can and Edmund blanched.

"No. There's no way. Lasaraleen? Not the one Aravis told us about who helped get her out of the city?"

"One and the same, my King. She was a rather good mistress and rode me often. I lived with her for quite some time, until I was sure it was safe to reveal who I really was. Though she is quite the irresponsible filly, she managed to keep a level head and was more than happy to help me escape. It took some planning, but after 170 days of capture, we staged my flight.

"It was her idea, surprisingly. She planned out a ride to the edge of the city and insisted upon me as her carriage horse. We were escorted by a few guards, but none on very swift mounts, again somehow arranged by Lasaraleen. When we reached the edge of the city, an apparent consort to the Tarkheena who had been following us made his mare bolt by me. My part was the easiest of the plan, I must say. I simply acted frightened and bolted, making sure none could catch me before we had cleared the city walls. Once we had, Lasaraleen cut my binds and loosed me to the desert.

"It was all rather exciting and Lasaraleen took great joy in planning and acting it out. Her guards chased after her favorite Horse, of course, but none could catch me and they thought me not a good enough cause to give good chase. I traveled by the river for the most part, only breaking away when it seemed absolutely necessary. I managed to avoid capture and made it into Archenland ten days after the escape. I was found by a farmer, and once I explained my predicament, he, along with many other locals, created a network to assist me in reaching Narnia. Prince Cor himself was part of that network and escorted me personally to Narnia, where he made sure I met with Peter the moment Cair Paravel was in sight. I'm sure your brother has explained to you the rest of what happened?" Phillip tilted his head a bit.

"He has. He said both of you were nervous wrecks on the voyage to get me."

"Rather," Phillip nodded. "We were so afraid that you had been sold or killed."

"I managed to survive." Edmund gave a weak smile.

"Thank Aslan for that."

Edmund nodded. Finally too weak to hold himself up, he slid to the floor and rested against the wall of Phillip's stall. The Horse sank down next to him, shifting a bit to get comfortable before pressing his nose gently against his boy's cheek.

"Are you not well? You've gone awfully pale." The worry was evident in Phillip's voice. Edmund was sick of others worrying about him.

"I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired."

"Have you not been sleeping well?"

"It's a bit hard to when you're plagued with nightmares." Edmund had meant it as a joke, but Phillip didn't take it that way.

"Have you spoken to your brother about the nightmares? Perhaps he could help."

"I will. Right after Peter finally yells at me."

"Sire?"

Edmund looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Peter…well…everyone's been so worried, no one's given me that look-how-stupid-you-were lecture yet. Once Peter finally storms over to me and says everything he needs and wants to say, I'll know he'll be ready to handle more of my problems. Then I'll tell him."

Phillip smiled a bit. "You underestimate what your brother can handle."

"Or perhaps he overestimates it. Either way, I know he's not ready to hear everything yet."

If Phillip replied, Edmund never heard it. He was fast asleep within moments, and as he slept, his dreams were full of storms, both literal and figurative, and all were centered on Peter and how he would react when Edmund finally told him the truth.


	16. Cloud

**Author's Note: **Well, I'm back from vacation, and I won't be going on any more, so hopefully these chapters will no longer be delayed. I have something of an issue to address and an apology to make, though. I was foolish and only gave myself 4 chapters to write everything that has to happen between Edmund and his family after he is reunited, and I had a lot planned for them. I know I promised you guys that this would only extend to #72, but unfortunately, that will no longer be the case. I am going to use some of my Artist's Choice words, and I am going to make my Elements Arc longer than planned. This will create shorter chapters and give me more time to work with, and it will be better in the long run, so I hope you all can forgive me for accidentally lying. If any of you have any questions you want me to answer or anything you want to see happen in these last chapters, please tell me in a review. I don't want any loose ends hanging around, so if there is anything, anything at all you want me to cover, don't hesitate to let me know. I'm sorry for blabbing for so long and I'll stop now. Enjoy the chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the wonderful country that is Narnia.

* * *

**96. Cloud**

"Edmund…Edmund wake up. Come on, Ed. There's a good chap."

Edmund grumbled a bit and tried to push away the hand that was shaking his shoulder. He didn't want to wake up, thank you very much. He was comfortable right where he was. The hand continued to shake him gently, but he refused to give in. Doing his best to ignore the pest, he rolled over onto his side, curled up tightly, and tried to fall back to sleep.

"Phillip, can you help me for a moment?"

Though Edmund never heard his friend reply, he found out just a moment later that Phillip was more than willing to assist Edmund's waker. The Horse hoisted the teenager up by the collar of his shirt, forcing Edmund to choose between standing and falling. Seeing as how falling would do no good for his current situation, he stood, stumbling a bit and rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" Edmund's eyes fluttered open to look at a very pale Peter.

His first reply was too slurred with sleep to be understandable between either of the boys. His second attempt proved to be a little better, but not much.

"'m sleepy, Pete…" As if to prove his point further, Edmund sagged against the wall and began to slide back to the floor.

"Oh no you don't," Peter thrust his hands under Edmund's arms and forced his brother to remain standing. "Let's get you to Lucy. You're making me nervous."

"I don't wanna…"

But Peter wasn't listening. Against his will, Edmund found himself being led out of Phillip's stall and up the stairs to face the bright sunlight and chilly weather. The cold did much in waking him up, and he let out a breathy shudder before turning into his elder brother in an attempt to warm up. Peter wrapped his arms tighter around Edmund but did not stop or turn around. It took a few minutes, but eventually they found Lucy leaning over the starboard rail, watching a pair of mermaids swim alongside the ship.

"Lucy." Peter's voice made her jump and turn to face them.

"Hello there." She smiled and walked over to her brothers, her smile quickly vanishing when she took in Edmund's condition. "Edmund, are you alright?"

Edmund nodded, frowning a bit. "I'm perfectly fine. Peter here," Edmund jabbed his elbow lightly into his brother's ribs. "Is being a worrisome git, that's all."

"Edmund fell asleep again." Peter rubbed the offended spot.

"Oh?" Lucy tilted her head, a bit confused as to why that was such a problem.

"In Phillip's stall in the middle of a conversation."

"Oh." Her expression went grave.

"Do you think your cordial would do anything?" Edmund grumbled in protest, but neither sibling took much notice of him.

"I don't know. Unless he's sick, I doubt it."

"I'm not sick, I'm just tired." At this, both siblings looked down at him in worry before turning back to their conversation.

"Perhaps he's right, Peter. We haven't let him sleep for as long as he wants, and maybe needs, since he first got on this ship. Maybe we should just leave him be until his body is ready to wake up."

"Yes. Yes, that's a brilliant idea. Leave him be." Edmund's voice was still far too weak and quiet to make the statement sound as forceful as he wanted it to, but it still got the message across.

Peter sighed in resignation. "Alright, Lu."

With a peck on the forehead from Lucy, Edmund felt Peter tug gently on his waist and lead him down to his bed chamber. Peter talked to him on the way there, but he spoke so softly and Edmund was so tired that everything he said was lost in the space between them and the younger of the two never heard a word of it. Peter rested his sibling on the bed and sat on the floor next to him, continuing to whisper whatever one-sided conversation he was trying to have. He paused for a moment to take a breath, and in that short space of time, Edmund went back to sleep.

Edmund woke slowly to the dim light of a dying candle. He looked around, but the room was too dark to make anything out. Beginning to worry, Edmund sat up and widened his eyes, trying to take in as much light as he could though he knew any efforts would be futile until his pupils dilated. A strong smell of must and dirt overpowered him and he felt the blood drain from his face. He wasn't on the ship with his brother, his family. He hadn't been rescued. He was still in Mahir's home, and he was alone.

Wanting more light, Edmund slipped out of bed and headed for the candle. He picked it up and searched for more that he could light, but he found none. Beginning to panic from the darkness and being so alone, he rushed out of the room and down the stairs, candle still in hand. He went straight to the kitchen and dug through cabinet after cabinet, trying to find more candles that he could ignite. The longer he dug and found nothing, the more terror took hold, until he could feel it wrapped around his chest like a vice. He struggled to breathe properly and his hands shook, making the silverware he was digging through clatter loudly.

If any blood had remained in his face, it vanished when he heard a crash upstairs in the master bedroom, a furious shout from Mahir, and loud footsteps storming down the staircase. Edmund gasped and ran for the front door, knowing that fleeing was his only hope. He made it to the door before Mahir could reach him, but when he tried to open it, he found it was locked. He turned and shrank at the sight of his owner, more enraged than Edmund had ever seen him.

"You!"

The large Calormene reached for Edmund, who tried to jump out of the way and failed. Mahir grabbed the tail of his shirt and dragged him across the hardwood floor, slinging him into the wall. The teenager's back struck the corner, making him shout in pain. Not wasting a moment, the slave owner pulled Edmund to his feet by his hair and threw him against the banister of the stairs. Once again, he didn't give Edmund any time to recover before forcing him up and punching him square in the jaw. At long last he gave his slave a chance to escape. Edmund scrambled across the floor, dashing into the kitchen and running straight for the large pantry. He struggled to hide himself and close the door, but Mahir proved to be much stronger. He forced it open and pulled Edmund out, striking him with everything he had in him.

"Edmund!"

Through the blur of fists, the young King managed to look up at the stairs and see Nath running for him, looking horror-stricken. Remembering the promise he made to Nath to not let Mahir win, Edmund began to fight back. He swung at his owner, but missed his mark and wound up hitting the wall instead.

"Edmund, stop it!"

He swung again, but again he missed. His arms were too short and Mahir was keeping too far away. The more he tried to fight back, the more he got hurt. He wanted to give up, he wanted to let Mahir kill him already, but he could still hear Nath screaming his name in the background and he couldn't let his friend down. He refused.

He swung one last time, finally catching Mahir in the stomach. The Calormene gasped, the wind knocked out of him, and he tumbled to the ground, pulling Edmund with him. When the two hit the floor, Edmund tried to scramble away, but Mahir refused to let go. The room was completely black again, he noticed, but he didn't have time to worry about that. With one final swing, he caught Mahir in the jaw and managed to escape his clutches.

Before his master could chase after him, Edmund dashed for Nath and the stairs. Nath stepped in his way and engulfed him, refusing to let him move.

"EDMUND, WAKE UP!" Nath grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard.

Edmund jerked away, suddenly rather dazed. His body trembled with adrenaline and fear as he slowly turned his head, taking in his new surroundings. He wasn't in Mahir's home. He was on the ship. And it wasn't Mahir lying on the floor, barely breathing and clutching his jaw, it was his brother. Edmund paled and took a shaky step back, stumbling and falling against the wall. Wrapping his arms tightly around his stomach, he allowed himself to slide to the floor, continuing to stare at Peter. He watched in horror as his brother slowly regained his breath and stood up weakly.

"Edmund…" His voice was full of pain, though he was trying to hide it, and his jaw cracked ominously when he spoke.

"Peter…" Edmund was ashamed at how quiet and squeaky his voice sounded.

He refused to move as he watched his elder brother slowly approach him and stick a hand out to gently brush Edmund's jaw. Edmund's trembling worsened as Peter touched him, and he let out a small whimper.

"Oh Ed," Before Edmund could say anything, his brother wrapped his arms around him tightly and pulled him close. "You're safe now. It was just a nightmare."

Ignoring all sense of self-preservation and dignity, Edmund broke down in his brother's arms and sobbed. He clung to Peter's shirt tightly, trembling to the point where it looked and felt like he was having a seizure. He rarely reacted so strongly to nightmares, but he didn't care. It felt good to finally cry after all he had been through.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Edmund shook his head violently and cried harder. "Alright, shh, shh. You don't have to. It's okay. I was just asking. It's alright, I'm here."

As Peter whispered soothingly and stroked his back, Edmund finally found it in himself to relax. He could sense Nath standing a few feet away, and he hated that he was still here. He didn't mind his presence usually, he just didn't want Nath to see him in such a pathetic state.

"Peter, what was that screaming? Is everything alright?" Edmund tensed when heard Susan dash into the room, but he daren't look up. "What's going on? Edmund? What's wrong?"

"It's alright, let's leave them be. I'll explain in the hallway." Edmund relaxed once again as he heard the two leave the room and shut the door behind them.

The two remaining boys sat on the floor together, holding each other tightly, until Edmund was finally able to calm down completely. He sniffled a bit and pulled back, keeping his gaze fixed on the blackness that was the floor. Peter slowly tilted his chin up to look him in the eye, but when Edmund caught sight of the large, swollen red mark on Peter's cheek, he quickly looked back down.

"It's alright, Ed. I'll be fine." Peter whispered, stroking his brother's hair gently.

"I'm sorry…" Edmund replied just as softly.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. I should know better than to shake you." A few long moments of silence filled the room before Peter spoke up again. "Was it about Mahir?" Edmund nodded weakly. "He can't get you here. You're safe. You'll never see him ever again, I swear." Edmund nodded again. "Are you going to be alright?" Another nod. "You're worrying me…"

"How long was I asleep?"

"Almost a day and a half." Edmund looked up sharply. A day and a half? It didn't feel at all like it had been that long. "We'll reach Narnia in a few hours. We've already sent a Gull out to let the cooks know so they can get started on a big breakfast. You are hungry, aren't you?" Peter smiled weakly.

"I'm famished." Edmund was relieved that he could give his brother the answer he wanted without having to lie.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. At least you'll get to see me eat more than usual," Edmund gave his best attempt at a smile. "And there had better be peppermint. I miss it."

Peter's weak smile ballooned into a huge, honest, relieved one. "More peppermint than even you could eat, Ed." The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Peter spoke up once again. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not tired anymore, if that's what you mean." In fact, Edmund hadn't felt so rested since he left the Cair.

"That's good." Peter's shoulders sagged a bit in relief. "I was so worried that something was wrong."

Edmund shook his head. "I'm feeling better than I have in ages."

Peter relaxed more. "Why do you think you were so tired?"

"I don't know," Edmund blushed a bit in embarrassment. "I just…needed the rest to cope with the shock of being found, perhaps. I mean, I still can't believe it."

Peter fell grave and nodded. "Neither can I."

"I'm glad you found me though."

"As am I." The smile returned.

"Where are the girls?"

"I'm sure Susan's pacing outside the door worrying about us," Peter's smile turned into a slight smirk. "Last I saw Lucy, she was still asleep. She should be getting up soon though."

Edmund, remembering about Nath and Susan outside and not wanting to shun them anymore, got up and opened the door to the small room. He was bowled over almost immediately by his sister who hugged him tightly and fussed over him mercilessly.

"Are you alright? Nath said you had a nightmare. What happened?" She paused for a moment to look over at Peter. "Are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine. It's not broken, just a bit sore." Peter reassured her.

"Good. Oh Edmund, you poor dear."

"I'm perfectly fine, Susan." Edmund swatted her hand that was now fussing with his hair away.

"Of course you are." Susan's smile was deceptive. She managed to hold it for several seconds before crumpling into Edmund and sobbing into his shoulder. "I was so scared you were dead. We missed you so much."

Edmund bit his lip and looked at Peter, who was too busy watching Susan solemnly to notice his brother's gaze. Edmund held Susan tightly as she cried and rubbed her back comfortingly.

"I'm here now. It's alright." He looked up again when he heard movement and almost jumped when he saw Peter standing right next to him, beginning to stroke Susan's hair.

The three stood like that for quite some time, a nervous Nath making a hasty retreat when it first began. It wasn't until Lucy came bounding in almost fifteen minutes after Susan started crying that the elder sister tried to pull away from Edmund. He shook his head and refused to loosen his grip, knowing quite well how much she needed this. Seeing her sister and taking it as an initiative, Lucy rushed to Edmund and buried her face in his side. He managed to pull one arm away from Susan and wrap it tightly around Lucy's shoulders, massaging one shoulder with his hand while she shook with silent tears.

Edmund looked up at Peter once again, who he realized was also crying. Not having any free hands, Edmund did his best to accommodate and wiped away what tears of Peter's he could reach with his nose. Feeling much too awkward and off balance, he stopped after a few seconds, but Peter didn't seem to mind. He rested his forehead on Edmund's head, breathing deeply, albeit shakily.

Lucy was the first one to pull away. After clinging to Edmund until she had been drained of tears, she slowly relinquished her spot and took a step back. She smiled sadly at her brother and fondly ran her fingers through his hair.

"You need a haircut."

A wet giggle erupted from Susan, enticing the same reaction out of the rest of the group. That one comment shattered the tension in the room, and Susan and Peter released their brother, both smiling a bit.

"Lucy's right. I've never seen your hair so long." Susan ran her fingers through it and pulled a section taunt, frowning a bit at the length. The waves in his hair made it look shorter than it was, and she wasn't at all pleased with the actual length.

Edmund shrugged. "I kind of like it. It's starting to straighten out a bit."

"From the weight." Susan confirmed.

"Oh please let us cut it? You look so out of place with it getting in your eyes like that." Lucy begged, still smiling.

"Only if you promise to cut it the way it used to be. I don't want you shearing all of it off."

Peter's smile grew. "I'll personally make sure they do no such thing, Ed. Don't fret."

"Thanks, Pete." Edmund sighed and rested his head on his brother's shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Peter stroked Edmund's hair gently.

"Pretty good."

"Not completely good?" Lucy frowned a bit. Edmund looked over at her and gave a small smile.

"I just miss home, that's all. I haven't slept on a real bed or eaten real food for months."

"Less than an hour, and you'll be able to." Everyone looked up at Nath, who had just sneaked into the room.

"That's all? We're moving faster than I thought." Peter watched him curiously.

"Or you've been down here longer than you thought." Nath smirked good-naturedly.

"Or that." Lucy giggled.

"Edmund," Nath looked at his friend. "Could you come topside?"

Edmund looked at him for a moment, trying to read his expression. Getting nothing, he looked up at Peter, who tousled his hair a bit and nodded, taking a step back. Edmund's stomach dropped when he could no longer feel his brother next to him, but he bore it and walked over to Nath. His friend placed a hand on Edmund's shoulder, tossed a smile to the remaining King and Queens, and led Edmund out of the room.

He kept his hand firmly on Edmund's shoulder as he led him not to the deck but down a corridor to a small, unoccupied room. Edmund watched him in confusion as he sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. Nath looked up at him and returned the expression, patting the floor next to him. Edmund hesitantly complied, getting more and more confused the longer time dragged on.

"Any reason you brought me down here?" He kept his eyes fixed on Nath, who in turn had his eyes closed.

"It's quiet. No one comes in here."

"Oh…" Edmund didn't understand in the slightest what he was getting at.

Nath opened his eyes and looked at him. "You really think we could have any sort of a relaxed conversation surrounded by your subjects?" Edmund's face lit up a bit with realization. "There it is. Now you understand."

Edmund nodded. "So what is it you want to talk with me about?"

"I have to have a specific topic? We haven't had a chance to talk at all since you got sick. I missed having a mate to just mull things over with." Nath smirked a bit.

"Then what would you like to mull over? We need some sort of vague topic to get a conversation started, don't we?"

Nath smiled. "So, King, huh?"

Edmund chuckled a bit. "Yeah, for six years now."

"And how's that life been treating you?"

"Well, right up until about six months ago. Now what did you _really _want to talk about? We both know there's something."

Nath's smile faded and he sighed. "I'm worried about you, kid. I'm worried about everyone I've seen pass through that household, but you especially. I didn't know you before you were bought by Mahir, but everyone's heard plenty of stories. King Edmund the Just, who faced the White Witch and shattered her wand, who faced Rabadash and his army and won. Who battled and killed an uncountable number of Fell Beasts singlehandedly, who-"

"We get the point. You've heard all the good and none of the bad." Edmund hung his head and blushed.

"What I'm saying is, you sounded like an amazing person. And when you first came to us, you really seemed to fit the profile. You stayed in line and all, but you had that fire in your eyes. I could see that you weren't meant for that sort of life. And when you fought Mahir in the pasture? Before he cheated…damn."

"You saw that?" Edmund's head jerked up.

"Are you kidding? Half of the slaves saw what was going on. You were amazing. If he hadn't of called his stallion over, you would have beaten him hands down, and you so skinny and weak and he so strong and…huge. But I'm getting off track, here. What I'm trying to get at is, I've never seen anyone with such strength and resilience before, and neither has Mahir.

"I think that's why you were sold for so much. They could see what you had in you and only someone who could afford to break you could afford to buy you. But you did break. You don't have that look in your eye anymore. If you saw Mahir and he came at you, I'm willing to bet everything I will ever earn in my life that you would run, or at least cower, rather than fight back. Don't give me that look. You know you would.

"I'm really worried that King Edmund the Just, the one everyone knows about, the one who had that fire in his eye, won't come back. Your siblings need you back, just the way you were before. I'm not saying you should try to pretend to be like that or anything. That would be impossible, and your siblings already know you're not you at the moment, and lying would just hurt them. But they do need you back, and I'm worried what will happen to you if the real you can't come back, if that fire has been stamped out forever."

Edmund sagged against the wall and pulled his knees to his chest. Nath was right. He wasn't himself anymore. If Mahir was on the ship right that moment and came for Edmund looking as though he was going to hurt him, Edmund would run. He would run right back to his brother and leave Peter to sorting the mess out. If he couldn't face a murderous Calormene, how was he supposed to face anyone in battle again? How was he supposed to face the court again? How was he supposed to face his brother again? Edmund sank lower and pulled his knees to himself tighter, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just need to know if there's hope. Your siblings will help you. You need to tell them first that something is wrong, but-"

"You already did that for me." Nash winced at Edmund's comment.

"Yeah. And your brother wants to help, but he needs to hear it from you first. He needs to know what to do, and you have to be the one to tell him."

"What did _you _tell him, exactly? Word for word. Tell me everything that happened between you two." Edmund kept his eyes fixed on the ground.

"I…" Nath sighed. "I waited until you were asleep. I went into your room and saw Peter. I asked him if it was a good time to talk. He didn't say anything for awhile, just…watched you sleep. He looked so drained. I stood there for awhile and asked him if I should come back later. He said no, he would come. He left your side so slowly, but we came to this room. He asked what it was I wanted to talk about with him. I said you. He just looked at me, so I started talking. I told him that you had been through a lot, that Mahir was a cruel owner and Tahj before that had seemed to do some damage. I didn't want to go into details, and I didn't, but I said that the time you spent with Mahir changed you, from what I could see. I said that the person I met on the first day you arrived and the person Peter and your sisters saved were two different people. He just stared at me the entire time."

"Poor Peter…" Edmund's voice came out weak and raspy.

"I'm sorry. I was just so worried. I thought I was doing the right thing. If I hadn't told someone, I was afraid you wouldn't either, and I don't want to find out what would happen to you if you didn't get any help, wanted or not."

"Yeah…it's fine…"

"Edmund?" Peter's voice echoed down the hallway, interrupting the conversation.

"Peter?" Edmund scrambled to his feet and rushed for the door. He pulled it open and caught Peter who was in the process of reaching for the handle.

"You weren't on deck. I was starting to get nervous." He looked past Edmund's shoulder and stared at Nath for a moment before glancing back at Edmund. "You're so pale. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nath and I were just talking. I'll be fine." Edmund half-lied.

Peter didn't look convinced, but he gave up the battle. "Cair Paravel is in sight. I thought you might want to come up to the deck with me."

Edmund smiled and took Peter's hand, running for the stairwell and pulling his brother helplessly along. He ignored the bitter cold when they reached the deck and plowed through the large crowd of people, Animals, and creatures as quickly as he could, keeping his brother in tow. The two hit the rail at a speed that nearly made Edmund flip over the bar, but he managed to catch himself and look up. Through the dense clouds that covered the ocean and cliff, Edmund could see the sweetest sight for sore eyes he could have imagined. Just ahead of him was Cair Paravel, standing on its perch in all of its glory, with a fresh coat of glistening snow donning its grounds.


	17. Metal

**Disclaimer: **The only piece of Narnia I own is my necklace and several copies of the books and maps

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**97. Metal**

Edmund couldn't believe what he was seeing. Time away from home had seemed to diminish his memory of the Cair. It looked so pristine, so beautiful, so luxurious, and so incredibly large. He had begun to forget what the marble floors felt like on his bare feet, how his stone balcony felt against his chest when he leaned on it. He couldn't wait to refresh his memory. He had half a mind to dive overboard and swim to her, so slow the ship felt like it was moving. He knew that would be ridiculous, of course, and even if it wasn't such a silly notion, Peter would have a heart attack. So Edmund allowed himself to drift with the winds and currents and keep his gaze fixed on home.

It took less than a quarter of an hour to reach the inlet and port. Once they had docked, almost before they could get the planks lowered, Edmund and Peter were off of the ship. They ran, still hand-in-hand, up the hill. They hit the gardens first, and Edmund hesitated. He slowed himself to a stop, allowing Peter's hand to slip out of his own before his brother realized what was going on. Memories of the fall, when Edmund and his friends had spent three days harvesting and telling stories, flashed through his mind as he touched some of the plants. Those days were the last truly happy ones he could remember since leaving, and they had definitely been the last days that he had laughed.

"Edmund?" Peter looked apprehensive and worried.

Edmund shook his head a bit and pulled himself away from an apple tree. "Let's get to the Cair."

Frowning a bit, Peter nodded, took his brother's hand in his own once again, and led them up the hill at a slower pace. Edmund looked around as quickly as he could, taking in as much detail as possible. He could no longer see the ocean or feel its saltiness. There was hardly any heat in the air, and the Cair certainly wasn't on fire, like in his nightmare. The ground was clean and beautiful, not dry and dusty like the island. The air was sweet and light, and so much more breathable. And last but not least, Peter was standing right next to him. That made this place home more than anything else.

Edmund glanced over his shoulder as they drew nearer to the Cair, suppressing a smile when he saw nearly every soul that had been on the ship following their Kings. Susan and Lucy were up front and talking to Nath, who seemed too distracted by his surroundings to hold any semblance of a conversation. Susan caught Edmund's gaze and shrugged good-naturedly before smiling and turning back to their guest.

After hiking up a few more steep hills, Edmund and Peter reached the grand front doors of their castle. Peter smiled at the look of awe and excitement on his brother's face, and he held Edmund back a bit as he opened the doors.

"Welcome home, Ed." He hugged his brother tightly and led him quickly inside.

At first, Edmund tried to move slowly. He wanted to take everything in and find out what, if anything, had changed. He managed to make it through most of the first hallway before giving up and racing Peter to the tower where their bedrooms were located. The two sprinted up the winding staircases, two bundles of exhaustion and breathlessness when they finally made it. Both boys smiled as they practically crawled to the room facing to the west, Edmund's room. Edmund's smile faltered when he took in the state of his room. No one had touched a single thing, it looked like. Leafs of incomplete notes he had been taking were still on the table. An open bottle of ink was still sitting on one of the desks. The door to his wardrobe still hung open slightly from when he forgot to close it on the day he left. It was exactly the way he remembered it.

"We were going to clean it up for you, when we found out where you were, but we didn't have time. Before then, no one was allowed in here." Peter looked around the room with him.

Edmund noticed the lack of dust and looked at his brother. "No one?"

"Well…the girls and I came in here every now and then…and I…borrowed your bed every night, but other than us."

"Oh Peter…" Edmund hugged his brother tightly.

Peter lowered his head to his brother's shoulder and cried softly. "We knew how much you hated people touching your things. None of us touched anything, I swear. Other than your bed and your balcony, nothing has made contact with anyone since you left. I promise."

"Shh. It's alright. You know I would never mind." Edmund gently stroked Peter's hair as his brother cried.

After a couple more minutes of being coddled, Peter took in a shaky breath and managed to get himself to stop crying. He pulled away from Edmund weakly, who kept his hands on Peter's shoulders. The two smiled weakly at each other, and when Edmund brushed away the last of Peter's tears with his thumb, Peter let out a wet chuckle and went right back to hugging his little brother.

"You're hopeless." Edmund said with a slight smirk.

"You made me that way."

"I apologize."

"Apology accepted. Now, what would you like to do now that you're home?" Peter once again pulled away and looked down at his brother.

"I want to watch the sunrise."

"But…Ed…the sunrise was an hour ago." Peter bit his lip, but stopped when Edmund smirked.

"Oh Peter, have you learned nothing? Until noon, the sun is always rising. Come on. I want to see Narnia."

Edmund pulled Peter out of his room and into the High King's, heading straight to his balcony that looked over Narnia. He sighed softly and leaned against Peter's shoulder, looking out at the beautiful country that was just beginning to wake.

"I wonder how crowded the Cair is going to be when everyone finds out I'm home." Edmund mused quietly.

"We'll have to bar the doors. You can't imagine how much everyone has missed you, and how worried everyone has been."

"I was afraid you were going to hold a funeral for me." Edmund gulped and bit his lip.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath. "Some of them wanted to, but the girls and I didn't."

"What if you had never found me?"

"I…I don't know. I don't know what we would have done. But we did find you, and we don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Yeah. There is one thing I'm worried about though…" Edmund scuffed his foot on the ground nervously.

"What is it?"

"What's going to happen to Mahir?"

"Whatever you want to happen to him."

"What?" Edmund looked up at Peter in shock.

"We could detain him for abuse and torture against the King and keep him in prison here, or we could send him to the Tisroc to face whatever crimes he committed in Calormen. Whichever you choose is the fate we'll make sure he suffers."

"What if he didn't commit any crimes, or they just let him go?" Peter simply watched Edmund. "I don't want that to happen. Then he'd just go right back to dipping in the slave trade."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I don't know…"

Peter rested a hand on Edmund's shoulder and squeezed. "You don't need to decide today. There's plenty of time to mull it over. Give yourself a few days to be free of him, and then we'll decide what to do."

"Alright. That sounds good."

"Come on, breakfast is probably waiting for us, and so are the girls."

Peter took Edmund's hand and pulled him gently out of the room. Once they got into the hall, he let go of Edmund and opted for wrapping one arm around his brother's shoulders instead. The two walked side by side down the staircase to the floor below, where their favorite dining balcony was located. It looked over the Eastern Sea and sat just below Lucy's balcony. When they got there, they were pleased to see both of the girls helping a few servants set up the food. Lucy set a large bowl of peppermint on the table and tossed a large smile to Edmund. He gave a small smile back and hung in the corner as everything was set up.

Once the dishes had been set and the servants cleared away, Peter led Edmund to his regular seat. The four ate in silence for awhile. Peter, Susan, and Lucy spent most of their meal watching their brother dig into his food like there was no tomorrow. It had been quite obvious from the start how Mahir had starved him, but they hadn't expected him to be so hungry. It was heartbreaking, and when they saw Edmund dash for the peppermints with a look of happiness, longing, and relief, Lucy had to excuse herself for a few moments to keep herself from crying.

"Edmund…" Peter finally spoke up, keeping his face as blank as possible as Edmund looked up from his food at him.

"Yeah, Pete?" He gave Peter a curious look.

"How long was it since you've eaten?"

"I ate on the ship, remember?"

"Other than field rations. How long has it been since you ate real food?"

Edmund frowned in thought and looked down. "I don't know. It would depend on what you mean by 'real food'."

"Something a person would eat willingly, even if they had other options."

"Um…let's see…it's been…uh…one hundred and ninety three days since I was taken, right?" Edmund looked up at Peter for conformation. When he nodded, he went back to thinking. "So…I guess…one hundred and ninety four days ago? Maybe one ninety three. I can't remember what I ate for breakfast that first day."

Peter and the girls paled a bit. "When was the last time you had anything to eat other than the food on the ship? Anything at all?"

"Before I got sick I guess."

"How long ago was that?"

"I don't know…eight days ago, I suppose."

"Eight days?" Edmund jumped when Peter shouted.

"Well…yeah…" Edmund found himself cowering in his seat. "I…I'm sorry…"

"No, don't be," Peter rubbed his temples and sagged a bit in his seat. "It wasn't your fault."

"Getting sick was." Edmund bit his lip when he heard his voice, which was rapidly growing weaker.

"I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose," Peter glanced up at him. "Did you?"

"No, not on purpose." His voice was almost at a whisper.

"Then it's not your fault. Come here. I'm sorry I shouted."

Peter scooted his chair closer to Edmund, who hesitantly did the same with his own seat. When the two were close enough, Peter scooped his brother into his arms and held him close. He stroked his hair, but frowned and stopped when something felt off.

"Why are you shaking?" Edmund shrugged. "Please Ed, not this again. Talk to me."

"Can we go riding? I miss it so much." Edmund's voice was barely audible.

"Of course. Susan, Lu, do you mind?" When the girls shook their head and watched the younger of their brothers worriedly, Peter nodded a thank you and stood up, picking Edmund up with him. "You're so light now."

"You could carry me just as easily before I left." Edmund bit his lip in frustration. His voice was only getting worse.

"Not just as easily." Edmund shrugged. Peter sighed. "Do you want to walk, or would you rather I carry you?"

"Whichever you prefer."

Peter sighed once again, but he didn't set Edmund down. With a grateful nod goodbye to the Queens, he carried his little brother back inside and headed for the main doors. He couldn't believe how feather light his brother was, and it made his stomach knot up. Peter and his sisters had always picked on Edmund for being so skinny in the past, but now it was as though he were barely there. It was no wonder he had been so exhausted on the ship. After going eight days without food and being bedridden for just as long with hardly any fat to feed his body, Peter was surprised that he was standing on his own at all yet.

"Maybe we shouldn't go riding…" Peter winced at the look Edmund gave him.

"Why not?"

"You're skin and bones Ed. Are you even capable of sitting on a horse?"

"I'll be on Phillip. I could be dead and he wouldn't let me fall."

Peter sighed in resignation. "Alright, if you're sure. But at the first sign of a problem, you're getting off and we're taking you to rest. Understand?"

Edmund nodded, unhappy with the compromise but knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to ride if he didn't agree to it. He allowed Peter to carry him the rest of the way to the stables, breaking into a pathetic excuse for a smile when he saw Phillip. He squirmed a bit and Peter set him down. Edmund jogged the rest of the way, tiring himself out with the effort but still smiling by the time he reached his destination.

"Edmund, how are you feeling?" Edmund's smile grew when Phillip ignored formalities and finally called him by his first name, as he had been begging him to since they first met.

"I'm fine." The phrase wasn't nearly as convincing as it was meant to be, and Edmund looked down a bit when Phillip gave him a quizzical look.

"If you don't mind me saying, for some reason, I doubt that."

"You should." Edmund jumped at Peter's voice right behind him. He spun on his heel to face his older brother, giving him the best glare he could. It was weak and undaunting, but it got the message across.

"Sire?" Phillip looked up at Peter with the Horse equivalent of a frown.

"Edmund will slaughter me if I give any details, but I would appreciate it if you would let me know if you feel the slightest difference in the way he is riding. I don't think he is physically able to ride, but he insisted, so it would mean a lot if you would help me take care of him."

"He's right here you know." Edmund frowned in disapproval.

"I shall, my King," Phillip turned to look at Edmund. "You took care of me so well on Tahj's ship and with Mahir. Please allow me to return the favor."

Edmund continued to frown, but knowing that he was outnumbered, he nodded in submission. Seemingly satisfied, Peter helped him put a saddle on Phillip and mount him. Once he was sure his brother was secure, the High King then saddled up his own stallion and the two left the barn at a steady walk. At first they went at an easy pace and Phillip stepped carefully, keeping a watchful eye on his charge. After about a half hour, when the Cair was out of view and nothing lay before them but beach, Edmund urged Phillip on. At first the Horse hesitated, but when Peter asked his horse to canter as well, he complied with Edmund's wish and the four sped up.

"How are you doing, Ed?" Peter looked over at his brother.

"Fine." Edmund didn't look back.

Peter frowned and looked down at Phillip. "Phillip? How is he?"

"Perhaps you should put a bit more faith in your brother, Sire, if it's not too bold to say. I will alert you if something does not feel right."

"I'm sorry, I'm just so worried." Peter looked back at Edmund for a moment, who still wasn't looking at him, before turning back to the path.

"Then perhaps you two should talk about what is worrying you."

"Hush, Phillip." Edmund spoke too softly for Peter to hear, but Phillip heard him rather well.

"You two need to clear the air if you're going to help repair one another."

"What is there to talk about? Edmund knows what happened to me, and I know what happened to him." Peter frowned and looked over at his brother once again.

"Do you?"

"Edmund…?" Peter's frown deepened when Edmund didn't respond. He reined his horse in and Phillip followed suit.

"Would you prefer I leave you two alone?"

"If you wouldn't mind, I would appreciate it." Peter dismounted his horse and lifted Edmund off, who put up no struggle.

"I will be a furlong back when you're ready to fetch me." With a bow, Phillip turned and strode away.

"Ed, what is it you're not telling me?" Edmund didn't answer. "Please, talk to me," Edmund just looked down. "What has gotten into you?"

"I told you before, I don't want to talk about it."

"But you have to talk about it. You've barely told me anything about what happened to you, and I can't rely on anyone else to tell me. Please. You used to tell me everything. Why won't you tell me this?"

Edmund turned away and struggled to hide the tears. He wanted to tell his brother, he truly, honestly did. But he couldn't. He refused to say a word until he was certain Peter was ready to take it, and he knew Peter wouldn't be ready until everything he wanted and needed to say was out there. Edmund knew Peter wanted to yell at him for the mistakes he made. He knew he deserved to be yelled at. He needed Peter's lecture, but until he got it, he wasn't going to give his brother what he thought he needed.

"Edmund, talk to me!" The only way he could think of that might have a shot of coaxing the monologue out of his brother was to rile him up, and nothing riled Peter up like being blatantly ignored when he was trying to say something important. "Edmund Pevensie, you answer me right this moment. Say something. Anything. Don't just turn your back on me."

Edmund wrapped his arms around his stomach, expecting Peter to grow closer to his boiling point and shout some more. He was surprised to see that, instead, Peter opted for a more physical approach. Peter grabbed Edmund's shoulder and forcefully spun him around, making his little brother face him. He gently, though firmly, raised Edmund's chin until they were looking each other in the eye.

"I need you to tell me what happened."

"No." Oh how Edmund wished his voice was stronger.

That did it. "What do you mean 'no'? You've been gone for six months! Your sisters and I were worried out of our minds. Your country thought you were dead. _We _thought you were dead! You had to go and pull some stupid stunt! You had to convince me to let you travel around with no guard, and then you went behind my back and dressed up like some commoner!" Peter began to pace angrily as he ranted.

"You went and risked your life. You didn't even take your sword. You could have been killed, do you understand that? You could have been killed, and no one would have known a thing about it! And now you won't tell me a single thing about what happened to you? Your sisters and I deserve at least something other than 'he starved me' and 'it was my fault I got sick' and 'I was the one who freed Phillip'. You can't just sit there and keep it to yourself and expect us to put up with it forever! I'm not asking for your whole story. Just a piece of it will satisfy. Anything at all. What they fed you, what you did there, who you met, anything!"

Peter was breathing heavily and shaking by the time he had finished, and a neat path had been worn in the sand from his rapid pacing. Edmund stood there watching him, a little more pale than usual.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to explode like that, I…" Peter cut himself off when Edmund smiled.

"_Now _I can tell you what happened to me."

"What?"

"You needed to say all of that, and I needed to hear all of it. I was being a sodding idiot when I went off like that, and don't try to take back what you said. Everyone knows it's true. You've always lectured me when I screwed up, and I needed you to do that again, but you were too afraid for my wellbeing to say what we both needed you to say. Now that you have, and now that you're feeling better because of it – don't give me that look, it's obvious you feel better – I know you're ready to handle everything else." Edmund had no idea how he was able to say all of that, but he managed to, and his smile grew when Peter began to smile as well.

"Then sit down and let's get to talking."

"Actually…I was kind of hoping we could ride and talk. Phillip will want to hear it too, and I want to get back to riding."

"Alright, if you're sure you're okay to handle it."

"I am."

The two walked side by side until they reached Phillip, who looked up, somewhat surprised by their earlier-than-expected arrival. Edmund, with some help from Peter, mounted him in silence, and once Peter had seated himself in his stallion's saddle as well, they took off at a slow trot. For five minutes they rode quietly until Edmund had steeled himself for the story.

"I first woke up on Tahj's slave ship, the evening of the day I was taken."

And with that, Edmund told his story. It was easier to explain than he had thought it would be, though several parts made him tear up, and when he told Peter about the two men in the market gossiping about the elder brother, he cried. Peter rode close to him and kept a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it whenever necessary and stroking his cheek during the especially difficult parts.

It was dusk by the time Edmund finished. He apologized to his friend and brother for taking so long, but both of them quickly shrugged it off as nothing to fret over and definitely worth it. Peter dismounted his stallion and pulled Edmund off of Phillip, hugging him tightly before his brother had a chance to protest.

"I'm so sorry I let you go through all of that…"

"Oh no you don't," Edmund pulled away, frowning deeply. "You are not going to go blaming yourself for everything I went through. If anyone is to blame, it's Mahir's and me, and we are going to leave the fault where it belongs and nowhere else. Understand?" Peter nodded dumbly. "Good. Now let's get home. You all are probably starving."

"You're not?"

Edmund shrugged. "I'm used to not eating much."

He said nothing more on the ride home, and neither Peter nor Phillip pressed him. The four made it to the Cair an hour after dark, and Susan and Lucy were nearly frantic with worry. They berated their brothers while the two put their horse and Horse away for the night, only stopping when Peter explained to them what had taken so long after they had gotten inside. Once they were informed, they quickly hushed up and instead opted for fawning over Edmund worriedly. He allowed them to fuss over him during dinner, but despite their disapproving remarks and looks, he didn't eat much. He wasn't very hungry, though he knew it couldn't be helped. Supper went by all too slowly for his taste, and it was only halfway over before he got too tired to stay with them.

"I'm going to head to bed." He said softly, pushing his chair away from the table.

"Are you sure?" Lucy gave him a worried look. "You've barely touched your food."

"I'm sure. I'm tired."

"Won't you have just a few more bites of your meat? Please?" Susan mimicked Lucy's expression.

"Leave him alone, girls. He's had a long day. You'll eat extra at breakfast, won't you Ed?" Despite sticking up for his brother, it was obvious that Peter was worried as well.

Edmund nodded, grateful for the backup. He headed to bed without another word. When he changed into his silk nightclothes and slipped into bed, he nearly cried at the comfort. He had forgotten what a real bed was supposed to feel like and the shock of feeling it once again made every muscle in his body completely relax. Within minutes, he was asleep.

What seemed like moments later, Edmund found himself surrounded by heat and dust. He was on Mahir's property, halfway between the stables and the gardens. The grass was dead, and there wasn't a living thing to be seen. Edmund struggled to walk back to the house, but the temperature was crushing him and making it impossible to breathe. He gasped and stumbled, his arms flailing in an attempt to grab onto anything that might save his balance. He almost immediately regretted it. One hand caught a shred of fabric, and Edmund was able to stabilize himself enough that he didn't fall flat on his face. He pulled himself up to a standing position, only to find himself face to face with a very angry Mahir.

From his robes, the man – who strangely seemed immune to the suffocating warmth – pulled a large chisel used for shoeing the horses. He swung it at Edmund, who instinctively screamed and ducked for cover. The metallic instrument made a whistling sound as it buzzed past Edmund's ear, barely missing him. Mahir swung again, missing once more as the King struggled to crawl away from his captor. The dried grass stabbed his palms, making them bleed. He gasped or screamed each time Mahir swung the chisel, and the more he tried to get away, the more his hands bled.

"EDMUND!" The moment the voice flooded the air, Mahir's heavy metal tool caught Edmund in the back of the head and knocked him out.


	18. Broken

**Author's Note: **After this chapter, there will be one more, and then this arc will be finished. So sad :( However, this fic in itself is far from over, and in the duration of writing it, I will probably throw in another arc or two, so keep your eyes peeled! I am also considering posting this arc as a separate story on my fanfiction account, since it gained so much popularity. What do you guys think?

**Disclaimer: **I never have and never will own Narnia

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**71. Broken**

Edmund's eyes fluttered as a hazy voice begged him to wake up. The world around him was full of fuzzy blurs swimming before him. He felt someone patting his cheek lightly. With more than a little bit of a struggle, Edmund managed to get his hands to his eyes and rub them weakly to try and clear away the sleep. That did wonders, and when he pulled back, he saw Peter hovering over him.

"Are you alright?" Peter gently helped Edmund sit up.

Edmund began to nod, but a blast of pain from the back of his head stopped him short. Peter skirted around him, sitting down comfortably behind Edmund and gently checking the back of his head. Edmund winced and hissed when he touched a bump that was beginning to form.

"You hit your head on the corner of your desk. You'll be alright, I think. What is it with you and hitting your head? Give the poor thing a break."

Edmund smiled weakly. "It's not my fault."

"Mahir again?" Edmund's smile faded and he nodded. "What did he do this time?"

"Not much, luckily. Just took a chisel to my head."

"Oh Ed…" Peter pulled his brother close and stroked his hair soothingly while Edmund trembled.

"It's not a big deal. He's done plenty worse, and it's not like he actually hurt me."

Peter brushed over the goose egg on the back of his head, pressing his lips together when Edmund winced once again. "I beg to differ."

"What time is it?"

"Almost dawn, why?"

"Just curious. Can I go see Phillip?"

"Sure," Peter didn't look pleased. "Want me to come with you?"

"No…no, I think I'll be okay now."

"Why were you so panicky without me before, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't know. I guess I was just so afraid that, if I let you out of my sight, I wouldn't find you again."

"I'll always be able to find you, Ed. I promise," The two hugged each other tightly and Peter planted a brotherly kiss on the top of Edmund's head. "Now go see Phillip."

"Yessir."

Edmund smiled up at Peter a bit before getting up and walking as quickly as he could to the stables. He couldn't help but notice that the barn was almost exactly the same distance from the Cair as Mahir's stables were from his house. When Edmund entered, he picked up a pitchfork without thinking and headed for Phillip's stall. When he spotted the Horse, the two smiled at each other, but Phillip's smile quickly turned into a confused look.

"Why do you have that?" He looked at the pitchfork.

"I need to clean out the stalls." Edmund said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's not your job, Sire."

"Well of course it…" Edmund stopped himself and blushed in embarrassment. He had been cleaning out stalls almost every day at dawn for so long that he had forgotten he didn't have to anymore. "I'll just…put this back…"

Edmund shuffled back to the front of the barn, his blush growing deeper as he set the pitchfork down. Despite the knowledge that he didn't have to, he still felt a strong urge to clean the stables and take care of the horses. It didn't feel right, not doing his chores. It had been so easy to get into the swing of things, but apparently getting out wasn't quite so simple. When he returned, Phillip was waiting for him patiently.

"Is everything alright?"

Edmund nodded. He slipped into Phillip's stall and leaned against his shoulder, clinging to his mane loosely. The Stallion turned his head to look at Edmund, nuzzling his cheek a bit.

"What is wrong, my King?"

"Please call me Edmund." Edmund closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. Old habits die hard. What is wrong, my Edmund?"

Edmund smiled a bit, but the expression didn't last long. "I had a nightmare, and something tells me I'll be having them for a long time."

"About what you went through?" The human nodded, and the Horse nuzzled him again. "Fear not. You're safe at home now, and I'm certain your brother will protect you from everything and everyone."

"I know. They're just a bit draining," Phillip nuzzled him once again. "Phillip?"

"Yes, Edmund?"

"Can you tell me more about what you went through in Tashbaan? Why didn't you tell Lasaraleen who you were sooner? Not that I'm saying you should have. I just want to know."

Phillip sighed, not in a negative fashion, but more in preparation. "I wanted to, Edmund. I nearly tried once, within a month of my being sold to her. However, things were a bit complicated there.

"On the day I arrived, I was treated like any normal horse. They washed and groomed me, frowning at my weight but apparently admiring my breeding. I was settled into my stall for the night, which I must say was rather fancy. It was incredibly roomy and had a very soft turf, though what it was made of I'm not certain. The next morning, Lasaraleen was led to my stall by a guard. She entered and inspected me, seeming very pleased with me.

"She rode me that day, and when I overheard someone call her name, I realized whom she was. I knew then that I had a hope of escaping. For several weeks, we spent a few hours every day together. She spoke to me in whispers, telling me how she was feeling and trusting me with things she obviously trusted to no other. I wished greatly to tell her just what I was, but I couldn't do it that day. It was the 36th day of living with her that I had the idea in my head to inform her that she was riding a Talking Horse, but the night before I could, the creature in the stall next to mine found out. I'm not sure how he realized what I was planning to do, but he was clever and had his wits about him.

"He told me that he, too, was a Talking Horse, and that telling Lasaraleen that I could speak was a very unwise decision. He informed me that his mate had done the same thing. Lasaraleen told a guard, and the Mare was sold to a circus for a very high price. I told the Stallion what my predicament was and how I had no choice but to try something, but he was persistent. He said that, with a master as loyal as you, my Edmund, I had no right to act out and betray you, even with good intentions. He told me that if I wanted to be as devoted and faithful as you, I would need to learn patience and wait for the right moment, not jump the first opportunity that presented itself.

"I listened, and I believe it was for the better. Just a few days afterward, I listened in on a conversation Lasaraleen had with her mounted guard while we went on a ride. They spoke of a new pair of Talking Beasts that had been bought by her father, and Lasaraleen would not stop talking about that Talking Mare of hers and how excited she had been to tell her father about her. She didn't want the Mare to be sold, she said, but keeping the fact to herself seemed like such a silly idea.

"After that, I kept my mouth shut until I was sure she would not be rid of me. We bonded, and she eventually came to call me her favorite mount. On our rides and during her one-sided conversations, she swore to me that she would never allow any harm to befall me, not even if it was from her own father. On the 170th day of my capture, she specifically said that even if I were a Talking Horse, she would not give me away, but keep it as our secret.

"That was when I told her. The look on her face was quite amusing and it took all I had not to laugh. Rather than fetch a guard like I had half expected, once she had regained her composure, she became quite elated. I had to convince her to silence herself before she attracted attention. Once I was sure she would remain quiet, I explained to her that I had a dear friend in Narnia who had been taken by the slave trade and was being abused. I desperately begged for her help in freeing me so I could get word to our Kings, who may help me save him.

"I was afraid to mention that you were my dear friend, but I think she had a hunch. She grew quite grave and swore to assist me in whatever way she could. From there, we planned my escape, of which I have told you about."

"I'm so glad you were treated well." Edmund smiled a bit.

"As am I, though I wish I could say the same for you." Phillip lipped at Edmund's hair fondly.

"Is that other Talking Horse still there?"

Phillip shook his head. "He was found out the day after I told Lasaraleen, though luckily our two cases were not connected in the slightest. A guard had apparently overheard him talking to himself. I know not what happened to him, just that they took him away."

"Oh…I'm sorry." Edmund hated the thought of his subjects being sold and treated terribly for being Talking Animals, but there was naught he could do without knowing where they were specifically located.

"It is fine, Edmund. He wasn't the most pleasant Horse to be around, and with the way he spoke ill of you and yours, I say he deserves what he gets."

"What?" Edmund looked up at Phillip, stunned.

"Worry not. I put him in his place whenever he said anything negative about my Kings and Queens, but he did speak poorly of you on occasion, and I believe if he had the chance to return to Narnia, he would opt to stay right where he was. He was a foolish creature who put blame where blame did not belong, and so he deserves whatever happens to him."

"Oh, I see."

Phillip nudged Edmund's shoulder. "You should return to the Cair. I'm certain your family is worried about you, and breakfast will be served shortly, I'm sure. Be sure to eat plenty. You look half the size you did before we were taken."

"I will. I'll come back later."

With a hug goodbye, Edmund went back to Cair Paravel and to the eastern balcony where they had eaten the day before. As Phillip had predicted, his siblings and breakfast were waiting for him. He sat down in his seat and apologized, explaining that he had been with Phillip. Satisfied with the answer, and with a greeting good morning, everyone began to eat. Edmund picked at his food listlessly, eating enough to keep his siblings' eyes off of him but not nearly as much as he had promised.

The rest of the day passed by slowly. Edmund spent almost all of his time with Peter, and half of his time with Peter and Phillip. Conversation was small and Edmund's voice was smaller. Peter quickly grew sick of the "yes sir's" Edmund continued to say, and Edmund cowered whenever he said something disapproving. He ate a bit at lunch and dinner, but not much more than he was used to eating at Mahir's.

Throughout the day, Edmund met with Nasrin, Calla, and Akmal, all of whom were leaving for their homes in the morning. He would miss them, and he swore he would visit whenever he could and gave them permission to come to Cair Paravel whenever time permitted it.

That night, Edmund had another nightmare, though he couldn't quite remember what happened. All he knew was one moment he was staring up at Mahir, and the next, he was staring up at an exhausted-looking Peter. He said nothing as his elder brother held him. He was crying too hard to talk even if he had wanted to. The two sat on Edmund's bed until he fell back to sleep an hour later.

The moment the sun rose, Edmund woke up. He slipped out of bed as carefully as he could, making sure not to wake his brother. He snuck out of his room and down to the stables. Even though he knew he couldn't do his old chores, he didn't feel right if he wasn't at least in the proper surroundings.

He stayed with Phillip for more than a half of an hour before Peter found him. He looked a bit frazzled, though not quite frantic. Phillip apologized for Edmund, and Peter said it was fine. Edmund said nothing. Rather, he allowed himself to be led out of the barn and up to the balcony for breakfast. As before, he didn't eat much. That day, and the one following, mimicked the day before almost perfectly. It wasn't until the fifth day of being home that things began to change.

"The first ship of captives is arriving today." Peter said quietly over breakfast.

"Oh." Edmund's voice sounded hollow and empty. He hated it, and he made sure to say as little as possible so no one would have to hear it.

"Do you know how many will be coming?" Lucy piped up, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Thirty seven, from what I heard. They were able to raid twenty one homes before the ships filled up. We're going faster than planned, and may even get the island cleared in two to three weeks rather than the couple of months we thought it would take."

"That's good."

Peter nodded at Lucy's comment, and the table fell back into silence. Edmund picked at the food on his plate, chasing a bacon crumb with his fork. He shrank down in his seat as he felt his siblings' eyes on him. He hated worrying them. He wished he could eat more, but his stomach wasn't big enough to handle more food yet. He wished he could talk more, but his own voice made him flinch and talking wore him out anyway. He wished he didn't shy away whenever someone raised their voice or hand, but habits based on instinct were hard to suppress. He had been able to stop calling everyone "sir" or "ma'am", and that was a relief, but he still felt apprehensive about looking anyone in the eye.

"Maybe you should stay with Phillip while we sort everyone, Ed…" Susan spoke up.

Edmund's head jerked up and he stared at her. "Why?"

"Well…you're having a hard enough time as it is. You shouldn't have to see any of the damage."

"What if I have friends in the group?"

"We'll have Nath with us. If he sees anyone that lived in the house with you, he'll let us know."

"What about Lain and Adem?"

"Who?"

"Exactly. I'm staying with you and helping you sort everyone."

Pleased to hear Edmund talking so much, Susan nodded. "If you start to get at all upset, feel free to leave. We'll understand."

"I won't be leaving, but thank you."

An hour later, everyone was dressed and in the main court room. Edmund was sitting in his throne, just as he said he would be, and Peter was watching him with a mixture of pride and worry. The girls just seemed happy to have all four thrones filled again and trusted Edmund to be able to take care of himself. Within a few minutes of being seated, the slaves were led single file into the grand room. They looked around in awe and wonder. Some looked weary and thin, and terrified at the guards lining the walls. Others looked young and rather fresh and probably had only been in the slave business for a couple of weeks or so. Most of the group looked stuck somewhere in the middle.

The first slave to approach the thrones was a young girl in her early teens. She had short cropped hair that had once been dark brown but had started to become bleached by the sun. She looked around the room, stunned by where she was, before focusing on the Kings and Queens.

"What is your name?" Peter asked gently, giving her a comforting smile.

"I'm Raelin, sir." She said with a quick bow.

"Where are you from?"

"Archenland, in the mountains."

"Do you know the exact location?"

"Well sir, I…I couldn't tell you where, but if I was in Archenland, I would know how to get there."

"Oreius, assign two Goats and two Satyrs to this girl and the party we add to her."

"Yes, Sire." With a bow from the Centaur, he led the girl gently to the side of the room.

Each slave in the line went through the same process. The older ones and the men were addressed by Peter, and the younger ones and some of the more frightened girls were handled by Lucy and Susan. Edmund stayed quiet for the most part, struggling to keep his composure as he watched each case of abuse parade before him. He was happy to see that only a small percentage had seemed to deal with homes as bad as Edmund's, and that a rather surprising amount had lived fairly decent lives, judging by their looks and demeanor.

It took a little over an hour, but eventually the slaves were filed into seven different groups, depending on the location of their home, and only three were left. Edmund had begun to zone out and didn't get a good look at the slaves until it was their turn to approach the thrones. The first two, both young men, did not look like anyone he knew and were sorted without interruption. The third, however, looked incredibly familiar and it made Edmund sit up straight in his seat.

It was a woman, in her late teens or early twenties. Her hair was nearly elbow-length and a light brown in color. Her skin was a deep tan from working in the sun and her hands were calloused, but when she brushed her hair out of her face to look at the royals, there was no mistaking her eyes. It was Lain.

Edmund struggled to keep his eyes from watering as Peter asked her for her name. She didn't answer, instead fixing her gaze on Edmund. She frowned a bit in confusion and thought. Peter and the girls followed her stare, watching their brother in the same manner as the captive. When Edmund stood, Peter stood as well, but when the younger King began to walk toward the captive, Peter remained rooted in front of his throne.

Edmund smiled weakly when he got within arm's reach of her. "It's been awhile, Lain."

At the sound of his voice, Lain burst into a huge grin and wrapped her arms around Edmund tightly. "Eamon! I thought it was you! I kept thinking I was so crazy to believe that you might have been that kid on the ship, but when you looked at me…" She laughed and hugged him tighter. "I've missed you. How are you? Where's your horse? Have you seen Adem yet?"

Peter, Susan, and Lucy watched on in amused shock as Lain fussed over their brother.

"I've missed you too. I've been so worried about you. I'm doing better, now that I'm home. Phillip is in the stables, and he's much better too. I haven't seen Adem yet, but I'm sure I will soon. And what about you? How are you? You look so different. Look at your hair!"

Lain laughed. "I've held my own. I got a good family, luckily. They insisted I grow my hair out, but I'm cutting it off when I get home. It's so hot."

"Edmund," Edmund jumped and turned around when Peter spoke up. "I don't mean to break you two up, but we do need to find out where she lives so we can get her back home."

Edmund nodded and turned to Lain. "Where do you live?"

She smiled. "On the shore in Archenland, fairly close to Anvard."

"Then I'll be sure you get there."

"Good. I was wondering, though, if I might be able to stay here until you find Adem."

Edmund looked over at Peter and smiled when his brother nodded. He led Lain to an empty room, helping her get comfortable before returning to his siblings. Luckily, it wasn't long before Adem showed up. It was three days before the next shipment of captives arrived. In those three days, Edmund improved little, much to the disappointment of his siblings and friend. His spirits only brightened somewhat when they got word that another, much larger batch of slaves had arrived. This time around they had raided a richer part of the island and had come home with almost fifty slaves after raiding sixteen households.

As before, Edmund and his siblings sat on their thrones and Nath and Lain, who had been introduced to each other, were permitted to sit on Edmund's right. They watched in baited silence as each slave was led before the Kings and Queens. They were only seven slaves into the line when Edmund noticed someone he recognized. He and Nath swept down upon Basam and all three boys grinned as they poked fun at one another. Basam got a special kick out of finding out his friend was a King and asked him if he would be taking any more vacations from home anytime soon.

The three were shuffled apart after a few moments, and Basam was placed in one of the groups that would be heading home the next day. He continued to smile as Edmund and Nath went back to their respective places, though the King's smile faded fairly quickly.

As the group of slaves continued to be sorted, more familiar faces sprang up. Hanah, solemn though just as proud as ever, went through the same treatment as Basam when it was her turn to meet Narnia's rulers. Her mare was in the stables, she told them, and she had had quite the surprise. According to her, while she had been putting her mare away, Phillip had spoken to her and gave her a good scare. She giggled lightly about it, as did the others, and with a final hug, she fell in line with the proper group.

In the final quarter of the slaves, a third and final friend showed his face. Adem stepped up to the thrones, bowing neatly and keeping his gaze away from their eyes. His condition was somewhat contradictory. He was much skinnier than he had been before, and bruises were obvious, but he was very well kept otherwise and wore rather decent clothes.

Lain was the first to head for him, running as quickly as she could and practically tackling him. He smiled and rubbed her back as she hugged him, but when he saw Edmund, he froze. He blinked and frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. Lain, noticing a change, pulled away and smiled at him.

"Adem, it's Eamon!" She looked at Edmund and her smile grew.

Adem's shocked look turned into a smirk. "No wonder you were commanding Tahj left and right."

Edmund smiled a bit. "Now you know that's not true. You were the one who got him to do anything."

"I'm assuming you want us to call you King Edmund now?" The smirk never faded.

"I've told Lain countless times to call me Edmund," Edmund looked over at her, but she just continued to smile. "But she refuses to give up my other name. So call me whatever you wish, except for King. I won't stand for you two calling me King. Now come on, before Peter yells at us."

Edmund shuffled his friends to the side, giving Peter a small smile before taking Adem to Lain's room. Once all three were in, he shut the door behind them. They stayed silent for awhile as Adem took in his surroundings and Lain watched Edmund. Eventually, Lain decided to break the silence.

"So what happened to you guys?"

Edmund stayed silent, but after a moment, Adem spoke up. "Nothing, really. I was sold to some fancy-to-do couple with a bratty four year old, some prized dogs and two other teenage boy slaves. They were alright. They didn't exactly feed me well, but they kept me looking nice for their numerous parties. Nothing really exciting ever happened. You, Eamon?"

Edmund shrugged. "Pretty much the same story. I was sold to a Calormene, his wife, and their two kids. I had to look after the horses and gardens."

"You look so tiny. Did they not feed you well either?" Lain watched him with curiosity rather than worry.

"Nah, not particularly. I got sick the last few days I was there, too, so I lost some weight then. What about you, Lain? What's your story?"

"I was sold to a widower and his new girl. Apparently they were quite a scandal. He had to be in his fifties and she couldn't have been a day over twenty five. But anyway, I was their fourth servant and the second girl. I don't know why they had so many of us. I spent most of my time outside helping where I could, but usually I just wandered the grounds. There was nothing to do. They didn't have any animals, save for a cat that the wench doted on all day, no kids, nothing. The boys took care of the crops, but we girls were left with nothing to do. I guess we were just for show. They were party people too, and the majority of their guests were men. They would have us serve the guests, so I suppose they just wanted us to appeal to their friends."

"They never did anything to you, did they?" Edmund couldn't stop thinking about Calla and her mother being taken advantage of.

"Oh no, of course not. One of their friends tried to touch the other girl and my master exploded on him and kicked him out. They were rather protective of us. We were like works of art or statues or something. Look, but don't touch."

"That's good to hear."

Lain smiled and nodded. "So how come you've been so quiet and jumpy? You were so brazen the last time I saw you."

"Jumpy? What are you talking about?" Adem frowned and looked at Edmund.

"I'm fine. It's nothing. Adem, do you live close to Lain? You two could travel together."

"Don't change the subject," Adem was obviously not pleased, and when Edmund recoiled from his harsh voice, his frown deepened. "Lain and I both got lucky with our homes. It seems you didn't."

Edmund shrugged listlessly. "I'll be fine."

Lain frowned, walked over to him, and hugged him tightly. "Promise? Because right now, you don't look fine. You look pretty broken."

Edmund simply cried into her shoulder.


	19. Fixed

**Author's Note: **This is it, guys! The final chapter of this arc. I apologize for the length of this one. I hope you have all enjoyed the ride, and hopefully there will be many more to come. I am already writing out my next arc, though it will be smaller and probably won't be published until a few chapters after this one. Those of you who have stuck with this throughout the arc, thank you so much. You guys are amazing, and I hope, if you keep up with this entire fic, I won't disappoint you in the future.

**Disclaimer: **I don't look like an old dead guy, do I?

* * *

**72. Fixed**

Edmund only cried for a minute or less before regaining his composure. He apologized for his behavior, but his friends would hear none of it. They asked to hear his story, but before he could decide whether to tell them or not, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Adem stood up to answer it, but Edmund beat him to it. He opened the door and jumped a bit, not expecting Peter to be standing so close.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, looking around the room gently.

Edmund nodded and stepped aside, giving Peter room to walk in. He did so and continued to watch the newest arrival with curiosity. Adem bowed politely, albeit nervously.

"My name is Adem. I was with Eamon…I mean…King Edmund on Tahj's slave ship."

Peter nodded, keeping his face fairly blank. "I never did hear what all of this Eamon business was about." He looked over at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

Edmund rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he explained his reasoning for changing his name. Peter's monotonous expression slowly turned into a thoughtful frown, but he said nothing as Edmund presented his case. It seemed reasonable and rational enough, and arguing for or against the name change would do nothing, so Peter remained silent.

"Is there something you needed me for, Peter?" Edmund's voice was as soft as ever and he watched the floor sheepishly.

"Nath said another fellow slave of yours was found. A girl by the name of Lamis."

Edmund's head shot up. Lamis had been the first one to be sold. She had been the quiet one that Jenae had bonded so thoroughly with. She had been the one whom he had spoken to the most often. He smiled a bit, nodded a polite goodbye to the three others in the room, and raced for the court. It only took a minute or two to reach his destination where Nath and Lamis were waiting for him eagerly. Lamis looked somewhat stunned and very pleased when she spotted him, giving a small wave and waiting for him to approach her. She bowed gracefully to him before catching him up in a hug. He returned the gesture and the two smiled silently at each other for a few moments.

"I assume you're ready to go home?" Edmund gestured with his head to the several groups of slaves lined up against the wall. Lamis nodded happily. "Do you know which group to go with?" She nodded again. "I hope you find your way safely, and I'll be sure to come and visit you."

With one last hug, Lamis made her way over to her designated group of slaves. Edmund was pleased to see that she would be traveling with Hanah. The girls seemed equally as happy about the situation as they hugged each other tightly.

Pleased with how smoothly things were going, Edmund went back to his throne and was surprised to see Peter in his already. He had missed his brother coming in and looked around to see if Lain and Adem had followed. Edmund soon spotted them in a far corner, watching the procession of captives with solemn faces. Following suit, the Just King sat quietly for the rest of the gathering, only getting up when everyone had filtered out and Peter stood first. Lain, Adem, and Nath began to approach the thrones, but Peter went down a couple of steps and stopped them.

"Could I have a moment with my brother alone please?" He asked, smiling gently. Nath nodded, and the three left the court room a bit apprehensively, followed by the Queens.

"Is everything alright?" Edmund frowned a bit as he stepped down next to his brother.

"It's time to decide what to do with Mahir. We've waited too long as it is."

"Oh…right…" Edmund had forgotten that he needed to pass judgment on the cruel man locked in the basement of the Cair.

"Any ideas?"

"Let him go free."

"What?" Peter stared at his brother in shock.

"I don't want him anywhere near Narnian soil ever again, much less serving out his punishment on it, and I don't want his blood on my hands. Give him to the Tisroc. I heard a rumor that he committed a murder. Perhaps Calormen will have some fitting laws."

"Alright. Whatever you desire." Peter gave a small, proud smile. When Edmund gave a – though much weaker – smile back, Peter hugged him and headed off in search of Oreius to tell him what to do with their prisoner.

Edmund, figuring he was no longer needed, went off in search of his friends. He found them in Lain's room, whispering quietly amongst themselves. When he stepped in they immediately quieted down and looked at him with slight concern.

"Is everything alright?" Lain was the first to speak and walk over to him.

"Everything is fine. Peter just wanted to talk to me for a moment." Edmund gave a sheepish smile.

"About what?" Adem jumped and grimaced when Nath elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"It is not your place to ask." The older boy whispered harshly.

"It was about Mahir." Edmund looked down.

"What about him?" Nath's eyes grew wide and he stood up straight, but it took Lain and Adem a few moments to understand.

"I had to decide what to do with him."

"You sentenced him to death, right? There's no other punishment he's worthy of."

"I…" Edmund squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know how he was going to tell his friend that he let their captor go free. "I heard he committed a murder, so…I sent him to the Tisroc."

"You what?" Nath clenched his fists and Edmund shrank back. "Do you know what you just did? You just let him go free! You had him, he's probably in this building right now, and you just gave him permission to wander around and do whatever the hell he wants!"

"Nath…" Lain put a hand on his arm, but he jerked away.

"The Tisroc on his golden throne isn't going to give Mahir a lick of attention. The man enslaved and tortured their worst enemies, including you! You really think the Tisroc is going to do anything after a sterling performance like that? Unless it was the emperor's own son or right hand man, Mahir is going to walk a free man! He's not going to be punished for his crimes, and even if he is, it certainly won't be with the proper penalty of death! For all we know, the bloody Tisroc will appoint Mahir as his new advisor!"

"Nath, stop it! That's enough!" Lain and Adem got between him and Edmund.

While Nath had been screaming, Edmund had backed himself into a corner and was currently cowering and covering his head. His entire body shook with fear as he waited for Nath to strike. He didn't see the realization of what Nath had done cross the nineteen-year-old's face, nor did he see Lain rush for him. He jumped and screamed when she touched him and struggled to curl up deeper in his corner.

"What is going on?" Peter's voice echoed down the hall. The sound of his footsteps filled the room as he ran, and everyone jumped when the door flew open. "Edmund!" The blonde King raced for his frightened sibling, sitting down next to him and pulling him into his lap quickly. "What happened?"

Edmund buried his head in Peter's shoulder and clung tightly, struggling to calm himself down and failing miserably. Peter looked up at the other three people in the room, searching for answers. When he laid eyes on Nath, who was still staring at the younger king in shock with a guilty look on his face, Peter tensed.

"What did you do?"

"Please, it was an accident. He didn't mean to." Lain stepped between Peter and Nath, desperately trying to protect both sides.

"Stand aside, Lain. Now." The girl trembled but followed orders and joined Adem against the far wall. "Tell me exactly what you did, right this moment."

"I…I didn't mean to. I forgot how jumpy the kid was." Nath's voice shook as he spoke.

"His name is King Edmund." Peter's voice was solid ice.

"Edmund, yeah, I – "

"King!"

"Right, sorry. King Edmund. I…I know. I just…he told us that he was sending Mahir back to Calormen. He…he's letting Mahir go free, basically, when he should have sentenced him to death."

"Don't you dare think yourself in the position to decide what my brother should and should not do."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just think that he deserves death and nothing else, but he's not going to get it. I've waited years to see that man die, and now he's going to just walk away from this without a scratch, and I just lost my nerve. I'm sorry."

"Yes, you are." Peter stood, lifting his still-trembling brother along with him.

"Edmund, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Please." Edmund looked over at Nath, still pale with fright, and said nothing.

He remained silent as Peter carried him out of the room and set him down in the hallway. His brother ushered him to his room and the two sat on Edmund's bed, as close to the other as they could get without sitting on each other. Edmund, whose trembling had subsided for the most part on the walk, rested his head on Peter's shoulder and clung to his shirt sleeve weakly.

"Are you alright?" Peter's voice was soft and gentle, though it was obvious that it took some self control to keep it that way. Edmund nodded slowly. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." His voice was weaker than usual, almost inaudible.

"Yes he did, but don't worry. I'm sending him home at dawn."

"He doesn't have a home to go to," Edmund's voice cracked as he struggled to keep from crying. "He lived in Galma. Everyone he knew, including his parents, is either dead or enslaved somewhere, and those who are still alive probably don't remember him."

"Then what do you want me to do with him? Whatever you want, I'll make it happen."

"Let him stay. He didn't mean any harm," Edmund took a shuddery breath, struggling to keep his voice at a level where it could be heard. "I destroyed the one thing he's wanted since he was fourteen years old. He had a right to get angry, and he had a good point."

"What point? There was nothing good about what he said to you." Peter's voice was beginning to grow livid again.

"He said that, with what Mahir did, especially to me, the Tisroc was more likely to make him his right hand man than he was to give him any sort of punishment for past crimes."

"I suppose that is a possibility, though I think the Tisroc's dislike toward us is overly exaggerated in his subjects. I'm not so sure that he wouldn't pass punishment. All Nath has seen is the radical side of the spectrum, the pure loathing the Calormenes have for us. You must remember. The Tisroc isn't as cruel as his men are. He is more reasonable, and though he does want us overthrown, I doubt he will be very fond of one of his men ruining what relations we do have with each other. If he wanted us tortured or dead, he would want it done on his terms, when there was more to gain than there was to lose, and only if he had leverage over us.

"Something tells me that when he hears one of his subjects, a disloyal criminal at that, bought and tortured a King without the Tisroc's permission and express supervision, he won't greet them too kindly. Despite our differences and feuds, the Tisroc knows well that he needs us alive and willing to cooperate, and for us to cooperate, there needs to be a sense of trust and benefit. The fact that a minor citizen could have destroyed everything will enrage the Tisroc more than you know, and more than Nath can comprehend. So worry not about your decision. Mahir will meet his proper fate. I promise it."

Edmund gave a weak smile. "Thank you, Peter."

"You're welcome, little brother." Peter nuzzled Edmund's forehead lovingly and stood up. "I'm going to go have a word with Nath."

"Try to be nice."

"I'll do my best, but I'm afraid I can't promise anything."

"I understand."

Edmund followed Peter with his eyes as his brother left, and once he was gone, he fell back on his bed. He lay there, legs hanging over the edge and staring up at the ceiling, for more than fifteen minutes before he heard his door open. Instinct kicked in before common sense and Edmund dashed for his sword hanging on his wall. He had it halfway out of its sheath before he looked up at the intruder. Lucy was staring at him with one eyebrow raised, safely out of his reach.

"Sorry…old habits."

"I'm glad those reflexes didn't fade with time." She said, smiling.

"Me too. I was afraid they had. It's good to see I was wrong."

"Very," Lucy nodded and sat next to him when he had placed his sword back where it was before. "Lain came to get me. She said something had happened between you and Nath, and she was worried. Is everything alright?"

Edmund pressed his lips together tightly and nodded. "Nath wasn't pleased with my decision about Mahir and he yelled at me. I behaved poorly and scared Peter."

"What do you mean?"

"I," Edmund gulped and closed his eyes. "I'm not the same as I was, Lucy. I'm not as strong as everyone thought I was. Mahir changed me, and now even a raised voice makes me flinch. Nath was enraged, and made it quite obvious, and I just kept waiting for him to hit me. I curled up like a helpless mouse and just waited for it. If he had hit me – not to say that he ever would – I don't think I would have stuck up for myself at all. I would have just taken it and waited for it to be over. Never mind whether I deserved it or not, or whether it hurt or not. I don't know how, but Mahir changed my instincts. He made me turn from a fight animal into a flight."

"No he didn't." Lucy's voice was gentle but assured.

"What?" Edmund looked over at her slightly.

"He changed your reactions, but he didn't change your instincts. All you've known since you were taken is pain and fear. Give yourself time to settle, and when the time calls for it, you'll see what he really did."

"You've been taking too many rhetoric classes, Lu. You're starting to talk in riddles."

She smiled softly. "You'll see what I mean soon enough. You were gone for six months. You can't expect yourself to recover in a matter of days. But trust me. You are the same as you were, Edmund, whether you can see it at the moment or not. Aslan changed you for the better and nothing can undo that change. You understand?" He didn't, but he nodded just the same. "Good."

Lucy kissed him on the forehead gently. The two sat in silence for a moment, but as Lucy stood up to go, Edmund grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her back to the bed. She watched him curiously for a moment, waiting for him to say something.

"Hey Lucy…?"

"Yes, Edmund?"

"When do you think I'll be me again? The real me. And no riddles this time." He gave a halfhearted smile.

"I think," She sat in silence for a moment, plotting out her answer carefully. "You will be you again soon. Very soon. You're strong, and you have always adapted quickly. Now will be no exception."

Edmund's smile grew into a more honest one. "Thanks, Lu." He kissed her on the forehead as she had with him. "I really missed you."

"I missed you too. I'm glad you're home." She smiled brightly and poked his shoulder. "But next time, try to have a little more sense and wear the clothes that are more befitting to you and your role."

"Yes ma'am." Edmund's smile continued to grow.

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Tumnus is waiting for me. He's going to teach me to play the pan flute!"

Planting a final kiss on Edmund's forehead, Lucy bounced out of the room and down the hall. Edmund stood, planning on going on a search to find his brother and save Nath, but before he could adjust his clothes properly, his door swung open again.

"Lucy, what are you doing back so soon?" Edmund asked with a slight smirk. When he got a good look at her face, everything positive, including blood, drained from his face. His eyes widened a bit and he took a rushed step toward her. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Peter needs us."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway at a breakneck pace. The two rushed to the court room where Oreius, a large amount of soldiers, and several various woodland Animals stood gathered in front of the thrones. Susan was already in her seat and Peter was just beginning to lower himself into his.

"Edmund, Lucy, there you are." He greeted them. His voice was heavy with worry and he looked down at the clump of citizens before him.

Edmund and Lucy remained silent as they sat in their thrones, watching everyone with concern. Every face in the room looked grave and each of the visiting Animals looked terrified. Peter waited patiently for his siblings to get settled before speaking up.

"What is the urgent message you've come to deliver?" He asked, directing his attention to the front-most Animal.

The Blue Jay ruffled his feathers nervously before speaking up in a light, though stressed, voice. "My Kings and Queens, my fellow friends and I spotted something we thought needed immediate attention. We saw a Werewulf running through the Western Wood, and he did not appear to be alone. Some of my kin followed him, but only one returned, and she was gravely injured. Before she died, she told me that a significant force of Fell Beasts, at least thirty that she could see, had gathered in the Shuddering Wood along the banks of the Telmar River."

"Fell Beasts?" Susan gasped, horrified. "I thought they had all been flushed out years ago."

Everyone had been thinking the same thing. Battles with Fell Beasts had been common during the first three years of reign, but by the end of their fourth year as Kings and Queens, the battles had all but ceased, save for a stray Boggle or Werewulf once in a blue moon. To hear of so many gathering together so long after the Witch's reign had ended would have been thought impossible just moments before.

"Those Animals gave their lives, my lady, and no single predator could have taken down so many with such swiftness and accuracy."

"King Peter, what do you suggest we do?" A Cardinal's deeper voice spoke up. Blue Jays and Cardinals generally disliked each other, and to see two so close together easily proved the validity of their concerns if nothing else did.

"I will set out with a band of troops in the morning, and you, my good Birds, will lead us to the camp if you so wish. If not, say so now and you can show me where they are located."

"We will lead you, Sire." The Blue Jay said with a bow. The Cardinal bowed as well, soon followed by the rest of the Animals.

"If any of your party wishes to join us, they are welcome, but they are just as welcome to stay at Cair Paravel with the Queens and King Edmund."

"With the Queens and Queens only," Edmund frowned and looked over at his brother, then back to his subjects. "I will be joining you."

Peter and the girls looked over at their brother, each with a different expression. Peter looked worried, and somewhat irritated and defiant. Susan was quite concerned and hesitant about the idea. Lucy looked on with a blank face, but her eyes shone with pride.

"Dismissed. Blue Jay, Cardinal, please follow us to the library so you can instruct my brothers as to what paths may be best to take." Lucy interrupted the awkward silence.

With another bow from every soul in the court, Animals and Creatures filed out neatly, the two Birds staying behind and waiting patiently.

"If you would follow my sisters, my brother and I will meet up with you shortly." Peter said kindly.

Susan and Lucy took the hint and led the Birds to the library while Peter and Edmund remained seated. Once they were gone, Peter looked over at his brother sharply.

"What on earth has gotten into your head that you think you'll be joining us?" He asked.

"Lucy." Edmund said simply, shrugging lightly.

"Edmund, you're still weak, and look how thin you are. You haven't put on a pound since returning to the Cair. I am not letting you wear armor and wield a sword when you can't even stomach a full meal. You are not coming and that's that."

Edmund glared at his brother. "I can make my own decisions, Peter, and if I don't do something soon I am going to go insane. All you have done this past week and a half is coddle me. You haven't given me a chance to lift my sword, let alone prove if I can still use it or not. I need to go."

"You are not going, and you are not talking your way out of it."

"The only way you are keeping me here is if you chain me to the Cair yourself and personally make sure I stay there. If you go, I go, and you will not stop me."

Peter sighed in defeat. "Edmund…"

"We both know I need to do this, so save it, Pete." With that, Edmund left the court room and headed for the library.

The Blue Jay and Cardinal were very helpful and had managed to locate exactly where the Fell Beasts had congregated. No one was quite sure as to why they were all meeting up or how so many of them had survived and found each other, but no one was short on theories. Edmund and Peter remained quiet during the meeting, listening to what people had to say but not putting in their own ideas unless directly asked. They all remained in the library for several long hours until dinner beckoned them to the balcony.

As they ate, all four siblings stayed quiet. Edmund picked at his food listlessly for nearly ten minutes before standing up without a word. Ignoring his uneaten dinner and the looks his siblings were giving him, he strode back to his room and took his sword off of its hanger on the wall.

After making sure Peter had not followed him, Edmund slipped out of the Cair and went to the training grounds. He closed his eyes and sighed as he felt the sturdy turf beneath his feet. Taking a deep breath, Edmund opened his eyes and began to slice the air with his sword, practicing steps that were all too familiar and yet felt so foreign and stale. The practice was much less fruitful than it would have been with a partner, but by nightfall Edmund had exhausted himself and was ready to head back to his room. He turned and jumped, readying his sword instinctively when he saw someone standing right in front of him. It only took a moment to realize it was Peter, and as soon as he was certain, he glared.

"You should know better than to sneak up on an armed person," Edmund scolded. "I could have killed you."

"You didn't." Peter's voice was soft and thick.

"Peter? Are you alright?"

His only answer was Peter drawing his sword. Edmund took a few steps back, utterly confused. He was exhausted as it was. He didn't want to have to duel with his brother. Peter either didn't catch his brother's dread or he didn't care about it. Either way, he swung and Edmund blocked, shocked at how much force Peter had put behind his attack. The two faced off for nearly a half hour before Edmund couldn't take it anymore. Putting everything into one final move, Edmund swept forward and disarmed his brother. He pointed his sword at Peter's throat and stood there for a moment before backing down and sinking to the ground. Peter sat next to him, both of them panting heavily.

"What…the hell was that…all about Peter…?" Edmund put his head between his knees and tried to calm his breathing.

"I needed to see if you were ready."

"I am."

"Quite."

The two sat in silence until both had recovered from the duel. Peter was the first to stand up and offered out a hand to Edmund. He took it gratefully and stood, giving his equilibrium a moment to recover before beginning to walk up the hill to the Cair.

"Do you think you could do all of that with armor on?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to ride Phillip?"

Edmund paused for a moment before falling back in step with Peter. "I hadn't really thought about it. I'll go ask him and meet up with you in the morning."

"No, I'll wait for you outside."

"Alright. I'll hurry."

Edmund split away from Peter and headed for the stables. He found Phillip easily enough and leaned against the stall door as he explained the situation. The Horse listened intently, and when it came time for him to decide whether to go or not, he was rather swift about it.

"I will not have you riding any other beast into battle. I am ready for it." Phillip nudged Edmund's shoulder supportively.

"Thank you, Phillip. I owe you one."

The Stallion smiled a bit. "We both owe each other many things. This is not one of them. Now go. It is getting late and you said we are riding out at dawn."

Edmund obeyed quietly, giving his Horse a tight hug before departing. Peter met him at the doors to the Cair as he had promised and the two walked side by side to their rooms. Rather than part ways in the hallway as they usually did, Peter followed Edmund into his room and got into bed with him.

"What are you doing?" Edmund asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Protecting you from the nightmares. You could do with a good night's sleep."

Edmund smiled a bit and snuggled close to his brother. "Thank you."

If Peter ever replied, Edmund was asleep by then and never heard it.

Dawn was just beginning to break on the horizon when Peter gently shook his brother awake. He groaned and mumbled some incoherent nonsense, but sat up without making too much of a fuss otherwise. Still half asleep, Edmund let his brother help him into his armor and strap his sword to his waist.

It wasn't until after everyone had bid farewell to their loved ones and the Queens and they were well out of sight of Cair Paravel that it really hit Edmund. He was half-starved, weak, and lax in his training, yet he was following his brother blindly into a battle. Peter had been right. He should never have come along. But his stubbornness and desire to prove himself had clouded whatever judgment he had had, and he was going to be killed. There was no getting around it. He would be overtaken the moment Peter was no longer within reach. Just because he had faced Peter and beaten him the night before didn't mean he was ready to face a pack of ruthless Beasts. He was completely insane for ever thinking he could.

The trip to the Shuddering Woods took most of the morning and afternoon. Dusk was only an hour away by the time they entered the Woods. They moved swiftly but silently, hoping to catch the Fell Beasts by surprise. When they came close to their destination, the Birds alerted them and they all prepared themselves for battle. Edmund lowered the visor on his helmet and gripped his sword tightly. Phillip stood completely still, bracing himself for the awaited charge.

It never came.

Before Peter could give the order, the troops were ambushed from the rear by a flurry of dark colors. Battle broke out instantly, sending the woods into utter chaos. Edmund and Phillip remained close to Peter as they struggled to get to where the action was. A large Werewulf charged for them, and panic welled in Edmund's chest. He wasn't ready. His instincts screamed at him to flee, and he desperately wanted to obey. His heart raced and he clutched Phillip's reins as tightly as he could. Peter and his stallion charged at the Werewulf.

Edmund watched, horror-stricken, as the creature knocked his brother off of his mount and ran for him. Something snapped inside him. The fear, the desire to run, the sheer terror of getting hurt was swept away in a wave of protectiveness over his brother and a will to defend his country. With a guttural howl that rivaled those of the Werewulf itself, Edmund leapt off of Phillip and charged. He dove between the wulf and his brother just before Peter was bitten. Teeth met metal and the young King flew into the ground. He could hear Peter cursing just a few feet away and looked up just in time to see the Werewulf heading for the High King once again. He spotted Peter, who was still on the ground with his arm trapped under the root of a tree leaving him utterly defenseless.

Refusing to allow this creature to kill his brother, Edmund once again rushed between the two, sword at the ready this time around. Once he was in the monster's path he charged at the Werewulf and the two met head on. Peter's scream melded with Edmund's and the wulf's, and Edmund tumbled to the ground, pinned to the black hybrid.

"Edmund!"

Peter's voice forced the frail fighter into action. He pulled away from the mass of fur as quickly as he could and readied himself for another attack, but the Werewulf did not move. Blood pooled beneath the fiend but did not flow from the injury Edmund had inflicted. The wulf was dead. Empowered with a new rush of adrenaline and finally battle-ready, Edmund freed his brother from the tree root and mounted Phillip before any words could be exchanged. He made sure Peter was able to get onto Lyst, his stallion, before taking off into the gale.

Edmund and Phillip rushed for their next opponent. A Siberian Tiger leapt into their path, growling at them menacingly. The three stared at each other for a millisecond before the Tiger pounced. Phillip turned instinctively and Edmund used the new opening to plunge his sword into his adversary. The Tiger fell to the ground with a terrible thud, nearly dragging Edmund along with it. It writhed in pain as blood poured from the wound in its throat. As quickly as he could, Edmund drove a merciful blow into the beast's head, killing it instantly.

It wasn't a full two seconds before Edmund was engaged in battle once again. This time it was a Black Dwarf from one of the rogue clans in the North. He swung at Phillip's legs with his axe, missing by mere inches each time. Edmund leapt off of his Horse and charged at him, blocking a blow with his sword. The Dwarf forgot about his target and focused on Edmund, holding his own for a full, grueling minute before he screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground, dead. Phillip stood before Edmund, snorting in rage at the corpse of the Dwarf whose neck he had broken.

"Edmund, get on!" He shouted, helping his boy onto his back as quickly as he could.

Once Edmund was situated into the saddle, the two were off. Edmund swiped at any Fell Beasts that came close to him with his blade but didn't fully engage one particular opponent until they had reached the opposite side of the excitement a few minutes later. That was where most of the Beasts were congregated, and several seemed to be lost without partners to duel with. Standing just to the edge and just far enough away that no one bothered her was a Hag. She was smirking with pleasure and chanting something Edmund couldn't hear. He saw a nearby soldier stiffen and be struck down by his challenger and he knew he had to bring the Hag down.

"Phillip, her!" Edmund pointed to the Hag and Phillip immediately bolted for her. Edmund dismounted, dragging a shout of protest from Phillip. "Help Peter, leave me!" Edmund had to scream to be heard over the noise of clashing metal.

He turned, not bothering to find out if Phillip had obeyed or not. He drew his sword and the Hag stared at him, continuing to smirk. He sidestepped around her and the moment she began to speak, he lunged. She dodged his blade, the sword slicing the hem of her cloak. She laughed cruelly and touched Edmund, sending sparks of pain searing through his chest. He screamed in agony and fury and took another swipe at her. She touched him once again, in the same spot, and once again he screamed. The more he tried to attack her the faster she dodged his blade and tapped on his tabard with her nail. Edmund took one final jab at the Hag and felt metal meet flesh and bone. He watched as his blade drove straight through the woman's heart, sending her collapsing to the ground, dead. The moment he was certain she would not arise again, pain enveloped Edmund and darkness overcame him.

"Edmund!"

Mahir rushed for him, his face twisted and red with fury. Blood soaked one side of his head and his clothes were torn.

"Has anyone seen my brother?"

Edmund struggled to get away but he couldn't move. His master pounced on him, forcing his elbow into Edmund's neck.

"Edmund, Edmund where are you? Answer me!"

He struggled to breathe, to move, to think as pain and suffocation drove him to the edge.

"King Peter, over here!"

Nothing was working. Nothing would move. He couldn't do it. Even thinking sent enough pain through his body to make him want to beg for death.

"Edmund, wake up. Oreius, get some help, quickly! Hang on, Edmund. Just hang on."

Mahir drove his elbow deeper into Edmund's throat. His blood flowed from his body and onto Edmund's, pooling around his sides and on his chest. His chest. It hurt so badly.

"Where's the cordial? We need Lucy's cordial!"

Make the pain stop, Edmund tried to beg. Please. Kill me. Just make it stop.

"Help me get his armor off."

With one final shove of Mahir's elbow, Edmund slipped into darkness and hoped he would never have to awaken again.

"Edmund?"

Of course he didn't get his wish.

"Edmund, can you hear me? Please say something."

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. How could he be expected to say something?

"We need to get him back to the Cair. That Hag did something to him."

"Wait, Sire. Just give him a few minutes. The curse is only temporary and should pass soon. Moving him could cause further damage and pain."

Edmund wished they would just leave him there to die. The pain was unbearable and the inability to take the edge off made it worse. He was shocked to find, however, that the second voice was right. As the minutes slowly ticked by, the pain eventually began to ease. Edmund found himself able to breathe again. It was shallow and slow, but it was something.

"Edmund? Can you hear me?"

Edmund tried to move but pain sent him reeling with the effort. His breathing sped up and he squeezed his eyes shut, clutching the grass desperately. Wait. He moved. He could move. Hesitantly, he tested his eyes first. He shifted them back and forth under the eyelids, and when that caused him no further pain, he slowly opened them.

He was engulfed in a soft darkness surrounded by dull red lights from torches. His brother's haggard face was before him, surrounded by Phillip and the soldiers looking over his shoulder. Edmund groaned and turned his head, trying to block out the pain somehow.

"Edmund?" Peter carefully turned his head back up and stroked some hair away from his forehead. "Are you awake?" Edmund gave a jerky nod and looked up when he heard several voices sigh in relief.

"Should I not be?" His voice was hoarse and stale.

"I…I don't know. Do you hurt?" Edmund nodded once again. "Where?"

As carefully as he could, the younger King gently rested a hand over his chest. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, his muscles tightening instinctively. He tried to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. His entire body went rigid and he could practically feel himself dying in his brother's arms.

"Edmund!" Peter didn't even attempt to hide the panic in his voice. "Oreius, the cordial! Now!"

Through the haze of his injury, Edmund felt the warm sweetness of Lucy's fireflower juice slide down his throat. The pain slowly subsided until it was no more. Edmund looked down and saw that his chest was completely naked, and at the very center of his breastbone was a large, terrible-looking black welt with slithering tendrils draping over the expanse of his chest and stomach. The tendrils were beginning to recede, but very slowly.

"Don't worry, you'll be alright. It's hard for the cordial to work against magic, but it will if you give it time."

"How much time?"

"I'm not sure. At this rate, maybe a few hours?"

Edmund groaned and closed his eyes. He didn't want to be in pain for a few hours. He wanted it to go away now.

"I can't decide if what you did was really brave or really stupid."

"Then don't decide." Edmund muttered.

"You saved countless lives by doing what you did, but you could have been killed."

"So I hear."

"Would you quit being so sarcastic?" Peter chastised, but his voice was light.

"No thanks. I've missed sarcasm."

Peter blinked then slowly smiled. "I've missed it too. Come on, let's get you home."

It took a lot of careful adjusting, but eventually a litter was made and Edmund was gently placed on it. The going was slow and steady, and by the time the troops had exited the Shuddering Woods, Edmund was able to ride Phillip on his own with only a fair amount of discomfort rather than excruciating pain. The group made up camp at the ford at Beruna, and when they set out the next day, Edmund was almost completely healed and in good spirits for the first time since getting home.

When they reached the Cair at midday the next day they were all greeted by the Queens and some members of the court. Hugs and welcomes were spread all around, as was word of their success. They had only lost two soldiers, though most had been wounded. Those who needed attention were brought to the medical wing and those that didn't were free to go where they wished. Edmund sought out his friends who were waiting for him eagerly in Lain's room as always. They smiled and hugged him tight when they saw him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't join you," Nath said, head low. "I wanted to, but Lain insisted I stay with her. And I'm sorry about what I said before."

"It's alright," Edmund smiled and put a hand on Nath's shoulder. "Mahir was sent to the Tisroc with several guards and a detailed account as to what he did and to whom. He'll get what he deserves, I promise."

"We're glad to see you're alright." Lain said, hugging him tightly.

"We have some news, though." Adem interrupted the happy moment.

"What sort of news?"

"We're going to head to Archenland tomorrow. I've put our location on a map so you can find us if you ever want to visit, and of course we'll know where to find you if you ever want us to come by."

"You are all welcome any time." Edmund continued to smile, but it was much sadder than before.

"Lain and I were neighbors, and Nath will be staying with Lain, so we'll all be in the same place."

"That's good to hear."

The four friends spent the rest of the day with the High King and the Queens. They were given tours of Cair Paravel and horses as parting gifts. Eventually the night came and went, and it was time for the once-captives to head home. Edmund watched them ride away with six guards until they could no longer be seen. Once they had vanished, he turned to go inside, but was stopped by his brother. Peter wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gently led him down to the gardens.

"How are you?" Peter asked, his voice soft.

"Better than I have been." Edmund answered, equally as quiet, though he now had a choice in the matter.

"Are you all fixed up now?"

"Perhaps not, but I'm certainly close. I will be soon, though. I promise."

Peter smiled and tousled his brother's hair. Edmund laughed and pushed Peter to the side, breaking away from his hold and running through the dead corn fields. Peter gave chase and the two romped with each other until darkness fell. Only when they could no longer see their hands in front of their faces did they go back to the Cair, and even then they still had enough energy to race each other. The two parted ways at their bedroom doors, and for the first time since being found by Peter, Edmund slept alone and didn't have a single nightmare.


	20. Black

**Author's Note: **I've wanted to write how Peter got Lyst, the stallion I gave him, for quite some time. So at long last, here it is. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I only own Lyst and some of the lowly subcharacters. The rest belongs to the wonderful C.S. Lewis and Walden Media.

* * *

**18. Black**

The Battle of Beruna had been over for a grand total of two days. Peter and his siblings had been Kings and Queens for less than a day. The Cair was in complete siege, succumbing to the powers of Stress and Time. There were so many things that needed to be done as quickly as possible. Rooms had to be made up, staff hired, treaties and allies created, equipment properly sorted out and made, lessons and training to begin, the list went on and on. For most of his first day as High King, Peter allowed himself to be swept away by the current, doing anything that was required of him and assisting others whenever he had a free moment. He wasn't thinking at all about things he would need or want for the future. Everything he was focused on was taking place here and now. So when Oreius and a Faun caught him in a rare moment of calm, the notion of a gift for him never crossed his mind.

He followed his General and peer willingly, asking no questions and waiting patiently for orders to be given. Perhaps they needed some help with the weapons, he figured. Or maybe they needed his input on the new training grounds they were building so fervently. However, when they turned right instead of left, heading for the stables rather than the armory or training grounds, Peter became quite confused.

"Oreius, what exactly is it that you need me for?" He asked, watching the Centaur in confusion.

"It is a matter of great importance." The General answered shortly.

Peter was still confused, but he figured that now was not the best time to ask questions. Everyone was stressed to the maximum and the last thing he wanted was to be the final straw that broke the Centaur's back. He followed obediently, stopping when he was told to stop and waiting at the entrance to the main horse stables when he was told to wait. He watched through the barred door curiously as Oreius helped the Faun guide two stunning horses through the main gate. The four creatures stopped in front of Peter, who was far more confused than before.

"What would you like me to do with them, sir?" He had never seen either before, and was in awe at their beauty and power. One was a tall black stallion, at least seventeen hands and thick with well-built muscles and impressive breeding. The other was a couple of hands smaller but equally as powerful with a strawberry roan coat with white dapples and a certain spark in his eye that screamed youth.

"I would like you to choose."

"Sir?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Now that the war is over, you can no longer ride the Unicorn. You must choose a horse of your own. These were the best two King Lune could find in Archenland. They are both three years old and have been well broken in. The black is very sturdy and quiet. The roan is spirited and light-footed. Both, we believe, will suit you well. It is your job to choose the one you most prefer."

Peter blinked in shock before taking a step toward the stallions. He greeted each one with a pat on the cheek and watched their eyes as they inspected him in their own way. The black stallion sniffed his hands and clothes while the roan sampled his straw-colored hair gently. Both seemed pleased with him, and he found them both pleasurable as well. He took the reins of the roan stallion from the Faun and guided him to a flat space of land in the center of the main paddock. After a few good bounces, he managed to mount the stallion bareback. With a gentle cluck of his tongue and a soft guide of his knees, the horse began to trot in a tight circle. Slowly, Peter widened him out and made him speed up until the two were cantering splendidly around the entirety of the pasture.

Once Peter was certain he had a good feel for the horse, he slowed him to a stop, dismounted, and led him back to the Faun. Within moments, he had taken the black stallion from Oreius and led him to the same spot in the pasture. He tried to mount him but unfortunately couldn't produce a high enough jump to settle on the tall horse. He was forced to lead the stallion to the fence, where he climbed a couple of rails before slipping onto his back. The two repeated the same circular motion and speed as the previous horse. Unlike with the roan, as the two sped up, Peter felt something click. He willed the horse on faster than he had with the roan, running with him longer and enjoying every second of it. Though his gait was a bit heavy, the motion was perfectly fluid and Peter found it quite easy to post with him properly.

When he finally slowed the black horse down, he turned his head to Oreius and the Faun. The Faun was smiling somewhat and Oreius had a proud look in his eye. Peter smiled back and led the stallion over to the fence.

"I choose this one," Peter said, sitting up straight. Oreius nodded and the Faun left, the roan stallion in tow. "What is his name?"

"His previous master called him Lyst."

"Lyst." Peter mulled the name over. "Then Lyst it shall stay. Thank you, Oreius."

The Centaur bowed. "You are most welcome. He will serve you well."

Peter smiled, knowing that the General was right. He could just imagine everything he and his new mount would be put through, and even then, still so fresh in their relationship, he knew he would be able to trust the horse with his life.


	21. Birthday

**Author's Note: **I have gotten an overwhelming number of requests to write more about characters and situations from my Elements arc. To those of you who I have not yet informed, I am currently working on my next arc involving the Pevensie children, Nath, Lain, Adem, and a surprise guest ;) It will be 6 chapters long, and I plan to do several arcs involving those characters and many others from my arc. Thank you all so much for making that story so popular.

As for this chapter, I am going to appease a different sort of request. One loyal reviewer, and a good friend, asked me to do a oneshot about Phillip's time that he spent with Lasaraleen. So, my good readers, here it is. I do hope I did the young lady and Stallion justice and I hope you all enjoy what you are about to read.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the lowly plot idea

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**91. Birthday**

Days had never been very lazy since Phillip had been sold to Lasaraleen. There had always been things to do. In the morning, less than an hour after dawn usually, Phillip would be awoken by a stable hand. It was usually a young boy, no older than Queen Lucy back at Cair Paravel. He was a small creature with a tussle of black hair and dirt on his beige rag clothes. He had an incredibly gentle hand, a very smooth voice, and a perky attitude. Phillip liked him a lot and always looked forward to seeing him.

The boy would wake up each horse individually and with a touch of personalization depending on the horse's temperament. He would wake Phillip by brushing over his ears and tickling him under his chin. It was a very slow, peaceful way to be roused and Phillip enjoyed it immensely. Once he had been woken up, the boy would give him his morning feed and give him a half hour to himself before returning and loosing Phillip to his personal run. His paddock was separated from other stallions by a dozen feet or so, but he never felt isolated or bored. His pasture was well equipped with shade, food, and water, and the Horse would usually spend several hours playing, napping, and just generally enjoying his surroundings. Several times a day, Edmund would creep into his thoughts, and when that happened Phillip would stand beneath his shade tree and allow nostalgia and worry to wash over him.

It was usually during those quiet moments that Lasaraleen's favorite servant would come to fetch him. She was a tall woman with fine robes and a firm but comforting hand. She would halter Phillip quietly and lead him to the stables where a couple of older stable boys would saddle him up. Once he was ready, Lasaraleen would be fetched and she would ride him for a couple of hours.

Once their lesson ended, Lasaraleen would return to her home and Phillip would be sent to his stable and they would have their supper. After dusk, once the city gates had been closed and it was too dark to see a person clearly, the Tarkheena would find her way to Phillip's stable and enjoy his company until she was fetched by her father a few hours later. She was always accompanied by at least one guard, but she talked low enough and they were far away enough that it felt as though they were completely alone. Phillip took great pleasure in the nightly chats, and it seemed she did as well. Every now and again she would cry and he would hold her close until she had calmed down, but usually the topics of conversation were light and very amusing.

However, that wasn't at all the order of things on one particular day. That day, the only thing that was the same as before was the hour at which Phillip was woken. The stable boy, accompanied by one of the older boys, woke and fed Phillip as always. After he had had his fill of grain and hay, the older stable hand led him out of his stall. Rather than take him to his pasture, he was tethered to a post outside. He waited patiently, albeit curiously, as tack was fetched from the barn. Rather than his usual saddle, he was fitted with a very beautiful, ornamental piece. Gold and silver were laid into the leather. The headband of the halter was encrusted with diamonds, and gems of multiple colors adorned the rest of the headpiece.

Utterly confused, Phillip allowed himself to be led up to Lasaraleen's palace. He was hitched to a very over-the-top carriage that looked as though it was made of solid gold and worth more than the Tisroc himself. Next to him, also in the process of being hooked to the coach was a chestnut mare, Phillip's double if she had had his same star. Her entire body was a beautiful brown, save for a fleck of white on the heel of her rear left coronet. Phillip had heard about this mare from Lasaraleen before. The white circle was a sign of good luck and she was Lasaraleen's father's favorite horse.

Once he and the mare had been fastened in, they were left alone with a single stable boy for a good half hour. At first the horse and Horse stood their awkwardly, pawing at the ground in boredom. After a good five minutes of silence, Phillip decided to strike up a conversation.

"What is your name?" He asked, making sure to keep to soft nickers and such rather than speak the language of the Humans.

"My master calls me Aini." She said simply, looking straight ahead rather than at him.

"My name is Phillip, though the humans here call me Siraj."

"You don't look like a Siraj."

Phillip resisted the urge to pin his ears. As far as Calormen names went, he had somewhat liked his. "What do I look like then?"

"Gilad."

"Which means what?"

"Camel hump." The smirk in her voice was clear, and this time Phillip did pin his ears.

"Are there any decent horses in this place? So far I have spoken with a sour Stallion and now you."

"Lighten up. I was only teasing. You are a handsome thing, and seeing as how you are tied to me, you must be very popular and likeable. Are you Lasaraleen's new mount?"

"I am. I am assuming you are her father's?"

The mare nodded. "His favorite pleasure mount."

"I see."

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Aini thought of something to talk about. "So where do you come from? You don't sound like a Calormen horse."

"I'm not. I was bought at an auction. I used to live in Narnia."

"Narnia?" Aini's ears perked and she tossed her head slightly in excitement. "I have heard wondrous things about that place. Animals roam free and live their own lives among all sorts of fascinating creatures. I have only ever seen a couple of Talking Animals in my life, and a very queer sort of thing that looked half human and half sheep."

Phillip smiled. "It is a beautiful land, and most creatures do live free. Some dumb animals – no offense meant, it's simply a term for those who cannot speak the Human tongue – live in the care of the humans, but most live freely and happily. I lived at Cair Paravel and was the Just King's favorite mount until we were separated and I was stolen from him and sold."

"I am sorry."

"It is alright, my lady. I will see him again, I am sure."

"Indeed."

"If I may ask, do you know what is the occasion that we are dressed so importantly?"

"No one told you?"

"I'm afraid I don't have many horses to speak with other than my neighbor, and he is not very keen on giving me information about this place."

"Ah, I see. Well, if I remember correctly, today is the Tarkheena's birthday. It is tradition – or maybe just a fancy of hers – to ride through the city with her in the carriage."

"I see. Well then, I will be on my best behavior."

"Good choice. Once I saw a young stallion snap at a man on the street. He was sold the very next morning to a merchant. Horses bought by those sorts of people live hard lives, and it is a cruel insult to be sold to one of them."

"Poor creature."

"Yes." Aini sighed.

Before the conversation could continue further, a large crowd swept over the carriage. Lasaraleen and her parents got into the transport and a burly, well-dressed man perched himself on the driver's seat. Dozens of servants lined themselves up neatly in front and behind the carriage, creating a sort of barrier around the noble family. With a sharp snap of the reins, Phillip and Aini marched on and followed the men and women into the city.

The party toured through the city for nearly three hours. It was mostly uneventful, though at one point a child tried to touch Phillip and pandemonium broke loose. Several guards swarmed the petrified girl and shoved her back into the crowd where she ran for her mother, sobbing. Phillip pinned his ears at the unnecessary display of strength, but there was nothing he could do about it. Aini, too, seemed unimpressed with the men, but kept her mouth shut and temper in check.

Once the parade had finished, Aini and Phillip were unhitched and led to their stables. Phillip was given water and a light snack of apples before being released into his run for the rest of the day. He was fetched a bit later than usual for supper, but he didn't mind. After dusk, as usual, Lasaraleen crept her way to his stall and let herself in.

"You were wonderful," She said quietly, patting Phillip's neck. "Most horses would have spooked at the rush of guards. I knew you were my favorite for a reason." Phillip nuzzled Lasaraleen lovingly. His ears perked up in pleasure when she giggled. "You're a good stallion, and you really seemed to do well with Aini. Perhaps I can arrange it with my father for you two to have some babies. They would be stunning, would they not? I've always had a fondness for chestnuts."

Phillip blinked and struggled to keep himself from stiffening. Having foals? And with a dumb horse? He wasn't ready to be a father. He hadn't planned on having children until he met the right Mare, which he didn't believe would happen for several years to come. Having children with dumb horses was unheard of in Narnia. It was considered foul and dirty and lower than even allowing a Human to ride a Talking Horse. Even Phillip, who adored having Edmund on his back, would never consider having foals with a dumb horse, no matter how pleasant she was.

"Oh I must go ask my father tonight! I'm sure he would be delighted. He does like you, though he has only ever seen you from afar. He says you have a beautiful gait, and you do." Lasaraleen squealed in delight. "I shall go ask him now. Isn't this exciting? You could be a father, and sire an entire line of new horses. My very own line! I will see you tomorrow, Phillip!"

Phillip watched as Lasaraleen raced off, utterly horrified. He hoped, more than he had ever hoped for anything before, that her father would say no. Eventually the hoping died down and Phillip forced himself to relax. There was naught he could do about it, and he knew it was pointless to worry. So instead he focused his thoughts on the day's happenings and eventually slipped away into a pleasant dream.

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**Author's Note: **So, do you think Phillip should be a daddy, or should I spare him the humiliation?


	22. White

**Author's Note: **I went driving recently and got lost in some terrifying fog on a mountain. While I was struggling to see three feet ahead of me, this oneshot popped into my head. I probably shouldn't have been thinking about the Chronicles of Narnia then, but oh well. I didn't die, so it's okay.

Also, just to erase any confusion, this takes place two years after the Pevensies get into Narnia. Lucy is 9, Edmund is 12, Susan is 14, and Peter is 15.

Just one more thing I have to say. If you would please do me the kindness of going to my profile and reading my blip about Beta-Readers, it would mean a lot. It's a great club on DeviantArt and I highly recommend it. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Narnia. I only own the situation.

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**19. White**

Edmund urged his Horse onward, breathing heavily and struggling to keep his hands from shaking. A wound on his side stung sharply and his vision was beginning to blur. The thick fog that engulfed the battle wasn't helping much, either. It was difficult to see three feet ahead, and beyond five feet things became utterly lost.

Phillip's chest heaved as he forced his lungs to expand, despite their protests and threats to give out at any moment. The rhythmic pounding of his hooves drowned out what little could be heard of the battle left behind and gave the air a false sense of peace and beauty. If it had been any other day, any other hour, Edmund would have had Phillip tread carefully and they would have enjoyed the loneliness. Any other time but then. Then, they were running for their lives, fleeing from a foe they could no longer see and only barely hear.

Edmund turned in the saddle in an attempt to see their pursuer. Misty white covered everything, and his effort went in vain. As he moved to face forward once again, the terrible wrench of Phillip faltering and the sickening feeling of falling overcame him. He let out one short cry before everything went dark.

A soft prodding on Edmund's shoulder forced him to come around. He groaned and put a hand over his right ear in a pathetic attempt to mute the buzzing. What little he could see danced in circles before him and he was promptly sick. Once everything that had been on his stomach was on the ground, he forced himself to sit up and had to do everything in his power to keep from dry heaving.

"Phillip…?" His voice sounded distant and groggy to his ears.

"I am here, Sire." Phillip's voice sounded perfectly normal aside from the icing of pain.

"What happened, where are we?" Edmund attempted to stand, but his legs refused to hold his weight and he immediately sagged back to the ground.

"I wouldn't recommend standing just yet, Edmund," The Horse said softly. "As for your questions, I do not know the answer to the second, and I'm not sure my answer will suffice in reference to the first."

"Any answer will do."

Phillip lay down next to Edmund and took a moment to get comfortable. "Where would you like me to begin?"

"After the battle…I remember we were running from that Werewulf, and…"

"I fell," Phillip hung his head a bit in shame. "I couldn't see where I was going. I was moving too quickly, and I didn't have enough time to slow down or jump when I ran across a log. I tripped over it and you slipped off my back."

"Are you alright?" Edmund's eyes widened and he looked his friend over.

"I'm fine. It scratched my legs up a bit, but I'm none the worse for wear. You hit your head, but you were only out for a few minutes, so I suppose you'll be alright as well."

"Oh, okay. What happened to the wulf?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't hear it again after we fell."

"Strange…"

"Rather."

Before Edmund could say another word, the brush nearby rustled. Edmund barely had time to draw his sword before the wolf-human hybrid leapt out at him. He swung at the beast as he struggled to get to his feet, but was a little slow. The wulf rammed into Edmund and knocked them to the ground. Edmund's sword slashed at the creature's shoulder, but only cut deeply enough to anger it. Phillip got to his feet and gnashed at the Werewulf with his teeth, but he did not attack with any more strength for fear of harming his boy beneath the monster's body.

Edmund struggled to push the Werewulf away, focusing most of his attention on the teeth that were attempting to wrap themselves around his neck. He failed to notice the beast's claws and cried out in agony as they bit deep into his sides. With a final burst of adrenaline he managed to force the black mass off of him and grab his sword that he had dropped. When the creature lunged again, he was ready. The hybrid launched into him, and Edmund drove his sword straight through its chest. With a final thrust, the short battle was over.

"Edmund, are you alright?"

Phillip closed the several foot gap between the two of them. He pinned his ears at the Werewulf carcass and pressed his nose gently to Edmund's side, forcing a gasp out of his charge. He pulled back, paying no heed to the blood that now coated his velvet skin.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Edmund's breaths came in gasps and his knees shook.

"You should sit."

"I'll be fine. We need to get back to Peter and the others. They are probably worried."

"Are you well enough to ride?"

Edmund nodded. He gripped Phillip's mane tightly as he struggled to take the few steps required of him without collapsing. His sides were killing him, possibly literally, and ignoring them proved nearly impossible. Exactly how he wasn't sure, but he managed to mount Phillip and settle nearly comfortably in his saddle. His vision swam and it took a few moments for him to compose himself, but he was able to sit upright without passing out.

"Perhaps we should remain here. We couldn't have wandered too far."

"Peter will never find us in this fog. No one will, not until it's too late."

"Then we should call for help. The Woods are full of Animals. Surely one will stumble upon us." Phillip's ears were already pinned, but it was obvious that if he were capable of pinning them flatter, he would.

"I will be fine. Just go."

The Stallion sighed but complied. He took a few hesitant steps and turned his head to check on his King. Edmund was dizzy but seemed stable enough to go on, and with the look he gave Phillip, the Horse knew he had no choice. He continued to walk in the general direction of where the others were, but the going was slow and Phillip wasn't so sure he was headed the right way. After about five minutes, it no longer mattered. Edmund slipped from the saddle and tumbled to the ground. He gasped and curled up instinctively in an attempt to hide himself from the pain that exploded throughout his body.

"Edmund!" Phillip rushed to him and carefully helped him sit up. "I am not taking another step with you on my back. You aren't well enough to ride. I will find help."

"No…Peter might still be engaged in battle. We can't go sending some ill equipped citizen plunging into a fight just to tell Peter I'm hurt when he can't do anything about it."

"We don't have much of a choice."

"Yes we do. You can leave me here and get help yourself. Don't give me that look. You know what's up ahead and you know what has happened. I will be perfectly fine. If Peter and the soldiers can't find me, what makes you think an enemy will? Besides, there are probably only a few left, anyway, at the most."

"But Sire, what if there's another Werewulf-"

"Phillip, it is either go by yourself or stay with me and wait for help to find us. The choice is yours."

Phillip huffed indignantly. "That's not much of a choice."

"And that's not my problem."

"I will fetch Peter myself. I refuse to allow you to stay longer than is necessary when you need help."

Without another word, Phillip raced off into the fog and was gone from view almost immediately. Edmund sat in silence for a few minutes, struggling to stem the flow of blood. Pressing on his wounds hurt nearly bad enough to make him pass out, but he clung to consciousness enough to keep the pressure on.

Time ticked by at various paces. Sometimes it felt like it was moving so rapidly that it made Edmund dizzy. Sometimes it moved so slowly that he was sure he would die before Phillip fetched help. Sometimes it seemed to move at a very normal pace. It was during one of these times that something began moving in the mist. The sound of leaves rustling and branches snapping echoed through the forest. At first Edmund thought it was Phillip with help. He pushed himself up weakly and called out for his friend. His voice was pathetic and sounded as though it had only made it as far as Edmund could see before being lost to the fog, but it was the best he had.

The answer he got back was not what he had expected. A deep grumble, too familiar for comfort, responded. It sounded again a few seconds later, much closer than it had been. Edmund struggled to hide himself, but he was in no condition to move, and certainly in no condition to defend himself. Phillip had been right. It wasn't exactly a Werewulf, but something had come after him, and Edmund had been left defenseless.

The Wolf showed its face less than a minute later. Its ears were pinned pack and its teeth, yellowed with age and mistreatment, were bared menacingly. It was limping from a terrible wound on its right front leg and Edmund knew it wouldn't survive the night without some sort of advanced medical care. Though Edmund couldn't be sure, he guessed that it had been wounded in the battle and retreated in fear rather than take a nobler route and be chased off.

Edmund and the Wolf stared at each other for nearly a full minute before the Wolf lunged. Edmund, sword already in hand, thrust it at the Wolf, but he was too early and his arm was too weak. It fell to the ground uselessly, barely grazing the Animal's chest. The Wolf landed on Edmund sharply, throwing both of them against a log to the side. Edmund's right hand scrambled for his sword while his left struggled to free himself of the large beast.

He failed miserably and the Wolf's teeth latched around his shoulder. Edmund cried out as the Animal jerked, throwing the boy to the side like a doll. Much too far from his sword to have a hope of reaching it, Edmund scrambled for the safety of a nearby tree. He reached up for the lowest branch, but without standing, it was too far out of his reach. Before he could get his feet under him, the Wolf was upon him again, tearing at the back of his head and neck. Edmund screamed and thrust his elbow back, getting lucky and striking the creature in the jaw. The Wolf whimpered once and lunged again. With a growl, Edmund turned and swung his fist. He hit the Wolf's neck, making it recoil. Taking advantage of the moment, Edmund forced his knee up into the Animal's stomach.

The Wolf jerked to the side and fell off of Edmund. With a rush of adrenaline, Edmund pulled himself away and stared at the creature, ready to strike again, but it didn't move. As Edmund focused, he spotted the arrow imbedded deeply in the Wolf's side.

"Edmund!"

Edmund turned around and his eyes widened at the sight of his brother, a Centaur just behind him knocking another arrow onto her bow and Phillip behind her. The younger king struggled to stand but the blood loss and pain forced him to sink back to the ground. A sudden wave of dizziness overcame him and he lay down, closing his eyes. He heard the trio reach him and Peter skid to a stop next to him. He felt his brother put a hand on his forehead and check his pulse worriedly.

"Edmund, can you hear me?"

"I do hope you didn't leave the battle just for me, you worrisome git." Edmund's voice came out weakly.

Peter chuckled thickly as he slid his arms under Edmund's back and knees. "Of course I did, but we had already won by the time Phillip reached me, so you needn't fuss. Come on, Lucy is close. We'll have you fixed up soon."

"Lucy?" Edmund opened his eyes a bit and looked up at his brother quizzically. He had thought that she and the healers had camped out over a league in the opposite direction.

"Of course. If you had been fifty metres to the right, you would have plowed right through their camp. They're only a furlong back, and Lucy is on her way here, so she's probably much closer."

"How are we going to find her in this fog?" The white-out hadn't dissipated in the slightest. If anything, it looked worse.

Peter smirked and walked over to Phillip. He unstrapped a leather case from the saddle awkwardly with one hand and pulled out Susan's horn. He blew it once, long and loud. He waited for only an instant before a return bugle sounded. Content, Peter put the horn back into its casing and looked back down at Edmund.

"If I may ask, what were you thinking, running so far?" He was smiling a bit, but his voice echoed his displeasure. "If it hadn't of been for Phillip, we wouldn't have found you for hours."

Edmund shrugged. "It was the only way I could protect you."

"What?"

"That Werewulf was hell-bent on getting one of us. When I saw it going after you, I intervened. I struck it with my sword, and it gave chase. I was too weak to fight it on my own, so Phillip and I ran. There weren't many Fell Beasts left, and they were all engaged elsewhere, so at least I had something to do."

"Something to do? This isn't a game. You could have been killed."

Edmund smirked. "But it was fun."

"Fun?"

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you don't enjoy the adrenaline rush too."

Before Peter could answer, the sound of hoofbeats filled the murky gray air. Lucy, followed by three healers, raced over to Edmund. She already had her cordial out and gave him a drop before he could blink. Edmund hadn't realized just how much pain he was in and how dizzy he was until it faded away. He closed his eyes and let his body go limp for a moment as he lavished in the feeling of being healed.

"Thanks, Lu. I owe you one."

Lucy giggled. "You say that every time I heal you."

"And I always mean it. How much do I owe you so far?"

"Counting now? Forty two."

Lucy smiled, and as soon as Peter had set Edmund down, she hugged him. He hugged her back tightly and stroked her hair a bit.

"I'll have to be more careful from now on, won't I?" Edmund whispered.

Lucy laughed. "Everyone knows that you and Peter will never learn how to stay out of danger."

At that, Peter returned the laugh. "Sometimes I wish you weren't always right. Now come on, let's get out of this white-out and back to the Cair. I'm sure Susan is worried sick."


	23. Friends

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry about the delay in getting this to you. My previous chapter explains everything, and I hope this makes up for the lost time! This story takes place 1 year after my Elements set. Lucy is 15, Edmund is 17, Susan is 19, and Peter is 20. This fic will involve Lain, now age 20, Adem, age 18, Nath, age 20, and a surprise guest whose age does not matter.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. I'm just borrowing it.

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**21. Friends**

It began like any typical day at Cair Paravel would. Edmund woke a few minutes before dawn, as he had for the past seven years. He watched the sunrise for a good half hour on his balcony before Peter came to fetch him. The two went to the training grounds together and, as they had every morning, sparred with Oreius and their other weapons instructors for a couple of hours before heading back to the castle. They lazed over breakfast with their sisters, the girls still in their night clothes.

Everything was perfectly normal until they had almost finished their meal. As a couple of Nymph maids began to clean up the dishes, a Gecko crawled into the room and perched himself up in the center of the table. He looked at all four Kings and Queens before clearing his throat and standing up perfectly straight.

"I have a message I was told to deliver to King Edmund, and a second message for all of you," He said, gesturing slightly to them as he spoke. "King Edmund, I bring word from your Archenlander friends Nath, Lain, and Adem. They wish for you to know that Nath and Lain are planning to get married and they want you to attend their wedding."

Edmund's eyes brightened and he smiled. He knew that Nath and Lain had bonded a bit when they had been in the Cair a year ago and he had gone with her to live with her family since he had none of his own. Edmund had visited them several times since then, and though it was obvious that they were very close, he had never suspected anything romantic going on between the two. They were perfect for each other, however, and it pleased him to see that they had paired up.

"When is the wedding?" Edmund pressed.

"The ceremony will take place three weeks from today, but they ask that you arrive a week ahead of time so that you might be able to have some relative peace and quiet, and a chance to visit with them personally rather than be surrounded by friends and family."

"So in two weeks. I think that will be alright. What do you think, Peter?" Edmund looked over at his brother.

"I'm sure we could hold the fort down without you for a couple of weeks. If we need you, you're only a three days' ride away."

Edmund beamed. "Send a courier to let them know that I will be there."

The Gecko nodded and gave a small, pleased smile. "As for the second message, Princes Cor and Corin say that they have decided that it has been too long since you last saw each other and they insist that you come for a visit."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" Lucy said, smiling broadly and clasping her hands together.

"Did they say when, exactly?" Susan joined in on the conversation.

"They did not specify a particular date, but said that any day you wished to come would be wonderful, my lady."

"Thank you, sir, for letting us know. We will send word to the Princes later on, once we have come to a decision as to when we should go." Peter gave a small smile.

"Very well, Sire." The Gecko bowed gently and scurried out of the room, leaving the Kings and Queens alone once again.

"We can't all leave Cair Paravel at once." Susan spoke up first, twirling one of her curls around her finger in thought.

"We can't, you're right. Edmund, where did you say your friends lived?" Peter looked over at his brother.

"They live close to Stormness Head, a short ride from Anvard."

"Perhaps I could accompany Edmund to Stormness Head a few days early," Lucy pitched in. "We could make a detour to Anvard. Edmund and I could remain there for a little while, and when it's time for Edmund to meet his friends, he could leave and I could stay with King Lune and the princes? Then, when we return, you and Susan can have a go."

"That's a splendid idea," Susan smiled. "What do you think, Peter?"

"It makes sense to me. We would need to send a few extra guards-"

"Oh Peter, don't be silly," Lucy giggled. "However many you were going to send with Edmund will be perfectly suitable for the both of us. We're just crossing into Archenland. It's not as though we are parading into Tashbaan again."

"You forget, Lu. It was on the border of Archenland that Edmund was kidnapped."

"I have not forgotten," It was clear that Lucy had taken a bit of offense to the statement, though she wasn't mad. "You won't let any of us forget. You insist on scavenging the border at least once a month, and have any reports of a single Calormene being in the area ever come back to us?"

"Well, no…"

"Then stop your fussing, Peter. Edmund and I will be fine, and we won't go dressed like civilians without any weapons to protect us." Lucy nudged Edmund's ribs playfully.

"Now that's not fair. I had a knife." Edmund blushed lightly in embarrassment at remembering his foolish mistake.

"Alright, alright. Then we won't go dressed like civilians without any _decent _weapons to protect us. Is that better?" Lucy giggled.

Peter remained a bit on edge, but he knew he had no chance of convincing his siblings. "Very well, Lucy," He sighed. "You win this round. Will seven guards satisfy you?"

"Very much so, Peter." Lucy smiled and gave her brother a peck on the cheek. Seven still sounded like too many for her, but she knew which battles were worth losing.

* * *

The two weeks before the trip passed by incredibly slowly for Edmund and Lucy. Edmund couldn't wait to see his friends again. It had been more than three months since his last visit and three months were far too long by his standards. Lucy felt generally the same way. It had been nearly twice as long since any of them had had any face-to-face contact with the Archenland nobility. They were all very good friends, and being closest in age to the Princes, Lucy had a special bond with them. Edmund and Corin were, of course, inseparable when they were visiting each other, but Lucy could almost always be seen tagging along with them.

At last, however, the night before the trip fell upon them. Edmund and Lucy rushed about their rooms, packing everything they thought they might need or want. Both rooms looked as though a strong gale had swept through the windows and raided each and every nook and cranny for interesting items. Piles of random items, some sorted neatly, some not so much, littered the floors, forcing the owners to dance around like acrobats in order to get from one part of the room to another. Edmund's room, though he was travelling far lighter than his sister, was especially messy, with so many papers and books strewn about.

"Anything I can help you with?" The sudden voice broke Edmund out of his adrenaline-fueled reverie, making him stumble and narrowly avoid falling on top of a rather rickety-looking stack of books. The younger boy looked up sharply, expecting to see one of the servants he had specifically told to keep clear. Rather than a Faun, however, it was Peter's figure standing in the doorway with a look of slight amusement.

"No thank you, I'm nearly finished." Edmund rolled his eyes.

Peter looked around the haphazard room with a look of disbelief. "How can you tell what you're supposed to pack and what you're supposed to leave behind?"

"Well it's simple!" The Just King exclaimed, navigating around a chair to get to his brother. "The stack by the window stays, the one near the dresser goes, the pile next to the bed stays…or…or maybe it goes…some of the pile on the bed stays here…"

"Some?" Peter smirked.

"Okay, so it's a little unorthodox, but it makes sense in my head!" Edmund huffed good-naturedly.

"Whatever works for you little brother." The blond laughed and gave a good tousle to Edmund's hair.

With a roll of his eyes, the younger King went back to stuffing various items into saddle bags. Peter watched as his brother carefully placed two quills and several bottles of ink into a specially designed bag. Out of all of his possessions, Peter knew his brother cherished his writing set more than most others. He took excellent care of the Gryphon feathers and refused to leave Narnia without them whenever a long journey came calling.

"Are you going to write to us?" Though Peter had meant it to be a joke, a slight tone of sentimentality had worn its way into the words.

"As often as I can spare a courier. And you, my good sir, had better write back."

"As often as I can spare a courier." Peter mimicked.

"Don't taunt me." Edmund smirked and stuck his tongue out at his brother.

"Come now, give me some credit. I do your voice rather well, don't I?"

"Certainly not. You sound more like Lucy than me when you throw your voice like that."

"Are you insulting yourself?"

"Oh shut up Peter."

The pair of boys laughed lightly for a moment even though they both knew there was nothing truly funny about the situation. It seemed to Edmund like it was a vain attempt to keep something at bay, something negative and poisonous.

"Why did you come in here?" Edmund's voice was somber.

"To see if you needed any help." Peter's was too.

"I told you twice today that I would be able to manage on my own, not that there's much left to manage. That wasn't why you came."

Peter sighed. "Susan's worried."

"When is Susan not worried?"

"But it's different this time, somehow."

"She always gets this little feeling whenever any of us leave for very long, we all know that. And we all know very well that she is rarely right, and when she is, it's probably just because of chance rather than a feeling. Something has to go wrong _sometime_, after all."

"She's upset. I've never seen her get upset over it before."

"Upset how?" Peter didn't answer for several long seconds. "Peter? Upset how?"

"She cried." The two made eye contact.

"Cried? Because of a silly little feeling?"

"That's exactly what I said."

"Lucy and I will have guards. We'll be in Archenland. We'll be perfectly safe."

"That's what I said. She simply told me that it wasn't Lucy she was worried about."

Edmund sighed and hung his head. "She needs to learn that I can take care of myself. I've survived a lot. We all have. There is absolutely no reason for her to worry. Did she tell you any way that we could put her mind at ease?"

"Yes. Don't go."

Edmund tensed and shot a glare at his brother. "What?"

"I'm not saying you can't go," Peter immediately defended himself, his tone apologetic for the misunderstanding. "She just told me that she doesn't want you to go. I told her how important this trip was to you and after a bit of coaxing she gave up, but she insisted that it was the only thing that would make her feel better."

"Does Lucy know about this?"

"Susan's talking to her right now, I'm sure."

Edmund nodded. "I'll talk to Susan tonight, then, but I'm still going."

"I understand. Just be safe baby brother." Peter once again ruffled up Edmund's hair, tossed him a smile, and left the room.

A few hours passed without a sound outside the door. Just as Edmund was finishing packing and cleaning up the mess he made, he heard his door creak open. He turned and wasn't at all surprised to see his elder sister standing in the doorway, just as Peter had earlier. Edmund smiled at her and she gave a weak smile back before taking a few steps into the room and closing the door behind her.

"I'm sure Peter's talked to you already." She whispered. Even in the candle light, Edmund could see she was more pale than usual.

"Yeah, he did. Look, Susan…I know you're upset, but-"

"Please don't go," Edmund hung his head in shame as tears sprung into her eyes. "Please. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"Susan," Edmund walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "Susan, listen to me. Alright? Just hold still, keep quiet, and listen to every word I'm about to say."

"Okay…"

"I am going to be safe. I promise you I will. We are just going across the border. I will have my men with me at all times. If you want, and if it will make you feel better, I'll keep my sword drawn the entire time as well, and I'll even tell someone to watch me and make sure I don't put it back if that will help. I will be alright, and if you don't believe me, then trust in Aslan. He wouldn't let anything happen to me without His consent."

"But we don't know what He wants. What if He's decided it's your time to go?"

"Then I will accept that fate. But Susan-"

"Well I won't accept it!" The Queen ripped herself out of Edmund's hold, crying once again. "Maybe you're ready to die, but we're not ready to lose you! I'm not ready to lose you! I won't lose you. I refuse to allow it! You're not going and that's final!"

"Susan!" The young woman stiffened in shock at how loud Edmund's voice had gotten. "Susan Grace Pevensie, you listen to me. Nothing, I repeat, _nothing_, is going to happen. The only thing you're doing right now is pushing yourself toward hysterics, and that won't help anything. You know very well that we cannot control what Aslan wants. If He wants me to die, He will find a way for it to happen. Even if I stay here, there are a thousand ways I could be killed. Even if you kept me locked up in my own room, if it was truly His plan for my life to end, it would. You need to get a hold of yourself and understand that things happen that we cannot control.

"I am not ready to die, but I am ready to do as I have been instructed, and right now my instructions are to go to Archenland." Edmund took a deep, shaking breath and closed his eyes. He waited a few minutes before opening them again and once more enveloping his sister in a hug. His voice was much softer the next time he spoke. "I love you, my sister, and I know you love me. But you need to learn to let me go. I know you mean well. I know you're concerned about me just as I'm always concerned about you. But you have to understand that what happens is beyond us. It doesn't matter what we want, what we feel.

"I'm sure I will return to you, and when I do, I will let you do whatever you want with me as payment for letting me go. But if I don't return," Here, Susan let out a muffled gasp and shuddered. "If I don't return, I need you to stay strong. Do you understand? You need to stay strong. You need to keep your faith in Aslan. You need to keep your faith in our family. And most of all, you need to keep your faith in yourself. Peter and Lucy need you just as much as all of you need me, and I need all of you. You have to promise me that if the worst should happen, you won't abandon them, and nor will you abandon and blame yourself. Promise me."

Susan sniffled. A few seconds passed before she gave Edmund a hesitant, slow nod. He smiled sadly and kissed the top of her head, stroking her back comfortingly all the while. Unable to hold it back any longer, Susan sagged in her brother's arms and began to sob. He held her close as her body shook, letting a few tears of his own stray into her dark hair. He was going to miss her dearly, and he hated seeing her so upset, but he knew it was for the best.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, I got in some Susan in there. I've never been very good with or fond of her, so I hope I did alright. Reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed it, and expect more soon!


	24. Enemies

**Author's Note: **My apologies for not getting this to you as soon as I had hoped. I had a bit of trouble figuring out a few key points. I hope you enjoy what I've written, though, and a huge thanks to Ro9ge for beta-ing!

**Disclaimer: **I own the Animals. Nothing more, and maybe less.

* * *

**22. Enemies**

The morning of the departure ran much smoother than the night prior. Few tears were shed, and most that were belonged to Lucy rather than Susan, to everyone's surprise. The four siblings took their time in saying goodbye, making sure that they gave each sibling several hugs, kisses, well wishes, and warnings. Before long, however, it was time for the youngest pair to leave. Edmund and Lucy, each on their favorite mount, hesitantly turned their backs on their siblings and, with one final wave goodbye, strode away from Cair Paravel.

Lucy, though still disapproving of so many guards, was pleased with whom Peter had chosen to ride with them. Riding ahead of the monarchs was a large Siberian Tiger named Nyle. He was strong and sturdy and very agreeable most of the time. To his right and slightly behind him was a lanky, though nonetheless swift and skilled, Coyote named Cynric. Edmund and Lucy rode side by side, Lucy on Edmund's left. To Edmund's right strode the Centaur Lind, one of his and Peter's weapons instructors, and to Lucy's left was Neci, Lind's mate. Behind the pack in a straight line, from left to right, was Torith the Stag, Pell the Faun, and Edlyn the Cheetah. All of the members of the guard had proved themselves many times over to be loyal to the monarchs and all were rather fun to be around.

"Hey Lucy." Edmund spoke first after nearly a half hour of silence.

"Yes Edmund?" The Queen turned to look at her brother.

"Did Susan talk to you?" Lucy lowered her head and nodded. "What did she say?"

"She didn't want you to go."

"I know. Did she say why though?"

Lucy frowned in confusion. "Does she need to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you not remember what happened the last time you were out alone?"

"Of course I do." Edmund remembered very well how he had been missing for almost 200 days, abused, and nearly killed a year prior.

"Do you have any idea how much that affected us? How much it affected her?" Taking Edmund's confused, guilty stare as a "no", Lucy sighed and continued. "We thought you were dead, Peter nearly died, I was a wreck, and Susan had to take care of us all. Her only little brother was missing, quite possibly gone forever, and she had to hold us all together. It was hard on her. Much harder than I care to imagine.

"She didn't let on much that she was upset. She worked a lot, though. I never saw her stop moving. Even when she was alone in her room I could hear her pacing. She was so fidgety and stressed. And then you came back," Lucy gave her brother a soft smile that quickly faded. "You came back, but you weren't you. Peter refused to leave your side, even when you were asleep. It was up to Susan to get him to take care of himself. She hardly saw you at all those first few weeks you were back. Instead, she had to take care of the both of you in the background. To her, with how little exposure she had to you and how you acted when she was around you, you might as well have still been dead and gone.

"Do you have any idea how much that upset and hurt her? Ever since then, she told me once, just the idea of having you go somewhere without all four of us scares her. She has nightmares quite frequently where you and Peter or you and I or all three of us go somewhere and never come back just because she hadn't come along." As Lucy talked, Edmund shrank down in the saddle lower and lower until he was a tight ball of guilt and shame.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered. "So that's why she was crying. Not because she was scared something was going to happen, but because she was scared something was going to happen without her around to protect me."

"Precisely."

"I'm sorry, Lucy. I had no idea…"

"It's okay. It wasn't your job to worry about us. You were so different and…" Lucy struggled to think of the right word.

"Afraid." Edmund gulped, refusing to look at his sister.

"And afraid," Lucy repeated softly. "You weren't in the right state of mind to worry about us or think of anything other than that fear. But you're better now, and Susan needs to realize that you will always come back. She doesn't need to protect you every second of every day anymore. You'll be just fine on your own."

Edmund looked up at Lucy just in time to see the encouraging smile she gave him. "Thanks, Lu. Now all we need to do is convince her of that."

"I'm sure Peter will do a good enough job while we're gone." Lucy giggled lightly.

"I think you're right. Hey Lucy…"

"Hm?" The redhead turned to look at Edmund once again, who was smirking in a terrifyingly suspicious way at her.

She looked at him quizzically as he leaned over on Phillip, straining to reach her shoulder with his fingertips. Confused but wanting to help with whatever he was doing, Lucy steered her mare closer to her brother, who, as soon as he was able, brushed her shoulder and took off at a gallop. She barely caught the "Tag, you're it!" that was caught by the breeze.

"No fair!" Lucy laughed and urged her horse onward.

The bay mare, only three years old and of rather high breeding, took off at a splendid speed. Edmund had seemed to be reigning Phillip in a bit, and within a few minutes, Lucy had caught up. She brought her horse up alongside Phillip and, with a very nervous hesitation, reached out and grabbed Edmund's shirt sleeve. Almost as soon as she had touched him she released his arm, making sure he didn't lose his balance. He laughed and she returned the sound before guiding her mare left and away from Edmund who was now It.

The pair continued the game for over an hour, managing to get Lind, Neci, and Torith involved. Once everyone could take no more, the group slowed to a leisurely walk and continued along their path to Archenland.

"Well," Nyle mused, watching his steps carefully. "That game of yours probably cut two hours off of the day's trip, if I'm calculating it correctly."

Lucy gave Edmund a Look and he smirked. Nyle seemed to have every inch of Narnia memorized and very rarely miscalculated distances. If he said they had shaved off a couple of hours, then they had.

The rest of the two-day-long trip ran fairly smoothly with few interruptions, and by nightfall of the second day the cluster of soldiers and monarchs could see the castle Anvard on the horizon. Lucy and Edmund exchanged smirks, and without a word, the two cantered toward their goal, the small pack of soldiers following quickly behind.

The monarchs spent the next three days together at Anvard. As always, Edmund and Corin were inseparable, much to the dismay of the castle's staff and residents. Both boys, being incurable pranksters at heart, wreaked havoc on whatever they could, making sure not to cause too much damage but having as much fun as possible. Most people took the pranks good-naturedly and even pitched in with the planning and execution every now and again. Lucy and Cor simply watched on in amusement as their brothers conquered the grand building. Though Lucy said nothing, she was overjoyed at seeing her brother behave with such poor manners. He was polite, stoic, kind, generous, and downright impeccable when he needed to be, of course, just as he was while in court in Narnia. But when he was fooling around and causing absolute mayhem was when Lucy was pleased with him the most. She hadn't seen him behave in such a way since he had been taken by the Calormene slave trade. She had missed the fun part of him, the playful part, the part that never wanted to grow up. To see it return with such strength was more of a comfort than any words or other behavior could be.

Alas, the time for Edmund's departure came all too quickly for the quartet. Just as they had been in Narnia, hugs and kisses were spread far and wide, and though his leaving was a sad one, Edmund couldn't help but smile at least a little bit. He was going to see his friends whom he had missed greatly and had been through so much with.

Edmund and his troupe set off less than a quarter of an hour after beginning the farewells. They walked in general silence for nearly two hours, and as the excitement of seeing his friends wore off, though Edmund knew he should be focusing on the path ahead, he couldn't concentrate. He was completely unaware of his surroundings, lulled into a sense of security by the tranquil atmosphere. He observed his guards with glazed eyes, numbly thinking in the dark recesses of his brain about what they could be contemplating. Were they thinking of home, of the families they had left behind? Were they thinking about their destination and what lie ahead? Were they thinking of the woods and mountains that surrounded them? Were they on high alert, keeping every sense sharpened for the slightest sign of an attacker? Or were they like him, lost in oblivion, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time?

Though Edmund and his soldiers were far less acquainted with their Archenland surroundings than they were with Narnian soil, Edmund was fairly certain that the ride to Stormness Head from Anvard was fairly short, four or five hours, give or take. The path was treacherous, however, with the constant threat of unstable cliffs and eroding rock formations looming over travelers. Trained instinct and habit allowed Edmund to avoid the dangers easily enough without dedicating his entire attention to the path ahead, but for those who weren't battle hardened and aware as he was, the path through the mountains was a deadly one.

As the pack traveled along, the sound of crumbling rocks snapped Edmund out of his reverie every now and again. The more it happened, the more he grew used to it until he no longer paid the minor rock slides any heed. The same had seemed to go for every member of his party. No longer did anyone start in surprise, or even look up at the new hole in the hillside. Now everyone paid more heed to the sounds of twigs breaking or rocks falling from above.

"It's awfully quiet," Phillip's voice beneath him made Edmund start. "I'm sorry Sire, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's my own fault, Phillip, not to worry. It is quiet, isn't it? I've always liked this ride."

"As have I. Any idea how much further we have to go?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it's just three or four-" Edmund's voice cut off with a soft gasp.

"Sire? Edmund, are you alright?"

"Phillip…" His voice, raspy and thick, barely made it to Phillip's ears. The Horse turned his head just in time to see his King slip from his back and tumble to the ground. For a moment, Phillip could see no reason why his friend had collapsed. Then, with horrifying realization, he saw the arrow shaft sticking out of Edmund's back.

"EDMUND!"

All at once the world was mayhem. The Just King's guard turned and immediately surrounded the fallen. Phillip heard them shout random words of nonsense and return fire on a villain he dare not look at. He lay down next to his boy who was still conscious, but barely. Edmund's eyes had begun to glaze over and his breath came in short, quick, raspy gasps.

"King Edmund, can you hear me?" Phillip nuzzled the boy's cheek gently. "You'll be alright. They'll help you in just a moment. Hang on for just a little longer."

* * *

Nyle, being the highest ranking member of Edmund's guard, took it upon himself to follow behind the pack. His ears swiveled constantly for any sign of thieves following them. He knew quite well with having the instincts of a tiger and the mind of a Tiger that the most common, most dangerous attacks came from behind. Not that there was much behind that was very threatening. To the right of the small pathway that had been worn into the hillside was a drop-off, slanted enough that it didn't necessarily mean certain death but steep enough that it would be impossible to scale. To their left, the mountain went upward, but it was fairly smooth going for the most part with only a cluster of small outcroppings every hundred feet or so. Most of the ledges were too small to stand on, much less hide behind, and those that were useful were easy enough to keep an eye on. Every now and again a small fissure in the side of the mountain would show itself, but like most of the projections, they were too small to house any possible threats.

The Tiger looked up as he heard his King and the Horse begin to speak. Though they made it harder to hear any sneak attacks, the Siberian Tiger didn't mind much. He could still hear their surroundings well enough and he couldn't expect everyone to be completely silent through the entirety of the trip.

A small sound from behind them made Nyle turn around. It had been light, no louder than a pebble rolling down the hill. It was loud enough, though, that it caused Nyle to worry. There were no animals or Animals nearby as far as he could detect, and yet the slight scent of flesh made his fur stand on end. With a quick glance, he knew that the Coyote had smelled it too.

Nyle opened his mouth to alert his charge of the possible danger, but before he could, the sound and sight of an arrow flew over his head and straight into his King's back. He reacted immediately, turning around sharply and backing up toward his monarch. The others did the same until they formed a tight circle around Edmund.

"Lind, Neci, knock your arrows! Upper right corner, behind the outcrop," Nyle's voice echoed on the mountains. "Pell, your sword. The rest of you, with me!"

The Tiger, flanked closely by the Stag, Cheetah, and Coyote, raced for the outcropping. He scaled the rocks with only slight difficulty, nearly smiling when he spotted the attackers. It was just as he had assumed. A small band of thieves dressed in grays and tans and smelling of dirt and must scrambled in every direction. Three of them drew bows and struggled to knock arrows while four others simply ran for their lives. Cowards, the lot of them.

Nyle quickly fell upon the closest coward, pouncing on and pinning him to the ground. He dug his claws into the man's shoulder, forcing a scream out of the pathetic body. He took no pleasure in causing pain, but he knew it was necessary in order to keep the foul beast in line. He raised his head for a moment, just long enough to take in the rest of the battle.

One of the archers had been shot through the chest, seemingly dead though it was hard to tell at such a distance. The other two sported a few nicks and cuts, but neither had abandoned their weapons. They seemed determined to kill the party that clearly outnumbered them, and if Nyle wasn't mistaken, they were enjoying it. Cynric and Torith had cornered one of those who had been too scared to fight, and he was now too scared to stand. Seemingly whimpering, the man slid to the ground and looked as though he were pleading for mercy. Pell was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with another one of the runners, apparently choosing chivalry and fun over a quick win. He seemed to be rather enjoying himself as he easily overtook the much weaker Human. Lind and Neci were standing a dozen feet off or so, firing ruthlessly at the archers who just wouldn't give in. Edlyn was nowhere in sight.

"P-Please…please don't hurt me…" The creature beneath Nyle's paws writhed.

"You attack my company and injure my King, yet you have the audacity to beg for mercy?" Nyle scoffed, disgusted. "Learn self respect and a sense of duty, my good sir. It will get you far in life."

"Nyle!" The Tiger looked up sharply when he heard Edlyn call for him.

"Edlyn, did you succeed?" He frowned a bit when he saw no sign of the Human she had hunted.

"Yes, sir," She nodded, looking a bit hesitant. "Well, technically, sir. He tried to flee, but I caught up easily. Seeing he had no chance, he…well…"

"Out with it, Cheetah. We do not have time for delays."

"He jumped over the edge." She looked him dead in the eye as she spoke.

"Did he survive?" Nyle dug his claws a bit deeper into his prey's shoulder without quite realizing it.

"No, sir. His neck broke. I could see a bit of the spine sticking out of the skin. Would you like me to double check, sir?" There was no sarcasm in her voice. She knew as well as he how important it was that no one escaped.

"If you feel the need. If you are sure he did not survive, then go to Phillip and do what you can for King Edmund."

The Cheetah nodded and raced over to the pair of silhouettes. He watched as she sank down next to them and pressed her nose gently to the King's back. The sound of scuffled footsteps drawing close wrenched Nyle's attention back to the battle. He nearly smiled in amusement as he watched Pell drag a bumbling carcass of a Human over to the Tiger and unceremoniously throw him at his feet.

"This one surrenders, sir." The Faun said decisively.

"You did well, Pell. Thank you. There should be rope in one of Lind's bags. Find it and bind him, if you will please."

"Yes sir." With a small nod to his superior, the Faun helped the Human up and led him to the bags, finding the material and quickly doing as he was instructed.

One by one, each and every living thief was captured and tied. Though it seemed like ages had passed since King Edmund had been hit, Nyle knew that it had only been a few minutes. A few very precious minutes that could decide his ruler's fate.


	25. Teammates

**Author's Note: **I apologize sincerely for the problems with the previous chapter, and the delay in posting this one. Hopefully all issues will be cleared up this time around and I will be posting the next chapter in the next few minutes, so you get two as payment for your patience.

**Disclaimer: **I own the OC's, not the cannon characters or Narnia herself.

* * *

**26. Teammates**

For several far-too-long minutes, Phillip sat with his King and whispered words of comfort. Not once did Edmund acknowledge that he heard Phillip. Instead, he seemed to only be aware of the great pain coursing through his back and shoulder. Nyle eventually walked over to the pair, his paws slightly fringed with blood. He carefully tilted their King's head back slightly, helping him breathe a bit. Phillip watched Nyle's grave face in hopes that he would find some sort of positive news. He was sorely disappointed.

"We need to remove the arrow. Pell, come here." The Faun skittered over and kneeled next to the Tiger.

"Yes sir," The Faun skittered over to his commanding officer, knowing full well what was expected of him. He was the only one who had enough medical experience to be considered the group's Healer, and he was the only one who was able to comfortably, securely, and properly assist their King. "I need a cloth, preferably a large one."

"Lind, your tunic."

"Yes sir." The Centaur stripped his armor and brown undershirt, quickly handing the latter to the Faun.

"This isn't going to be very pleasant," Pell warned. "I'm going to need as much fabric as I can get. This will bleed quite a bit, and if I don't stem the flow, he could die within a matter of minutes."

Everyone looked down to Edmund, whose tunic was already soaked with blood. "Search the King's bags," Nyle ordered. "Use anything you can find. We can replace everything later."

Phillip kept his eyes on Edmund as a couple of guards began to tear through their supplies. Edmund's skin was a sickly chalk color and rather clammy to the touch. He was trembling slightly and breathing sporadically at best. His breath came in quick, short, choppy gasps that were painful to hear. Phillip couldn't imagine how much it must have hurt to be the one doing the breathing.

"We need to send for Lucy," Pell spoke up again once the din had settled and he had a small pile of clothes before him. "Who here is the fastest?"

"Torith, would you go back to Anvard?" Nyle looked up at the Stag.

"I will, sir, as quickly as I can." He responded dutifully. With a bow, the Stag turned and raced in the direction they had come.

"Sir, why did you not send Edlyn?" Cynric asked. "Aren't Cheetahs known for their speed?"

"Yes," It was Edlyn herself who answered. "But we can only run so fast for so long. Torith's endurance far surpasses my own."

"Enough talking. Pell, what do you need us to do?" Nyle stared harshly at the Faun.

"Give me some room," Pell answered simply. "And do not rush him. Phillip?"

"Yes, Pell?" The Horse looked up quickly.

"I will need you to keep him calm. I can hold him steady well enough, but King Edmund cannot afford to go into shock. I'll need you to keep him alert and distracted. Can you do that?"

"Of course." Phillip almost pinned his ears at Pell's tone. The Faun greatly underestimated their King and his Horse.

With one deep, steady breath, Pell gripped the arrow and yanked. Edmund jerked and screamed as blood poured from his back. The Faun desperately tried to stem the flow as Phillip spoke softly to his King.

"It's over, Sire. You'll be alright. Just hang on."

"Ph…Phillip…" Edmund's voice was weak and hoarse, and the words gurgled in his throat.

Edmund coughed and blood speckled the ground in front of him. He shook terribly, his tremors bad enough to hinder Pell's progress in tying the wound. The soldier yelled at Phillip to do better, but Phillip ignored him. He focused solely on his King who was steadily getting whiter and whiter, and whose eyes were slowly beginning to glaze over.

"Focus on me, Edmund. I know it hurts. You just need to focus for a bit longer. It will be alright. I promise. Pell will fix you up, you just need to be patient."

Edmund said nothing, but Phillip knew he was listening. He blinked furiously, struggling to keep the tears back. The Horse continued to whisper words of nonsense as Pell tied a bandage around Edmund's chest to keep the pressure on the covered wound when everyone let go.

"That should keep him from bleeding out too quickly, but if he doesn't get help soon, there's not much I can do." Pell's voice was grave and weary.

"What do you mean? He's not going to die, is he?" It was Neci, the Centaur, who spoke up this time.

"The arrow pierced his lung. Even if I could sew the wound shut and keep him from bleeding to death, he'll inevitably drown within a few hours." The Faun wiped his brow and stood, turning to look at the horizon for any sign of Lucy or Torith.

"Will they make it back in time?" Edlyn whispered.

"I don't know."

Edmund coughed, breaking the sudden onset of terrified silence. More blood stained his teeth and painted the ground, forcing a quiet gasp out of the Cheetah and a gentle nuzzle from Phillip. The young King seemed to be only half conscious and completely unaware of his predicament. His eyes were half open and a hand was clinging to his Horse's mane weakly, stroking the Stallion's neck every once in awhile with a single finger.

"He'll hold out." Phillip said resolutely.

"How can you know? We have no idea how bad the trauma is, or how long it will take the Queen to get here." Pell nearly growled with frustration at the Horse.

"He'll hold out," Phillip repeated simply. Another bloody cough from the Human seemed to challenge that statement, with more blood than the previous coughs combined spilling out. "He must hold out."


	26. Family

**Author's Note: **Terribly sorry about the shortness of that last chapter. There was only so much I could write before I had to cut off in order to write this one. But to make up for it, I'm posting these two chapters at the same time. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Nothing has changed, I promise.

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**24. Family**

The minutes ticked by slowly, the silence broken only by Edmund's worsening coughing fits. His breath was coming in short, wet gasps, with his chest rising and falling feebly in an attempt to replace the fluid in his lungs with much needed oxygen. Phillip spoke to him in the softest of whispers, knowing that his King was probably hearing very little if any of it. Most of the guards remained by Edmund's side, watching their surroundings closely for signs of another attack. Nyle and Cynric had left to guard their catch of Humans, most of whom were watching the scene unfold before them with general indifference. One man seemed almost sorry for what he had done, and another, the oldest of the group, looked quite elated with himself.

Nyle kept the majority of his attention on this smirking being. He wondered what was going through the man's head to make him behave in such a way. Surely he knew that he would face the death penalty. Surely he knew that a young, innocent boy was suffering a slow and painful death, the worst kind of death, because of him and his men (for there was no doubt in Nyle's mind that this man was the leader of the pack). Surely he knew that there was a Siberian Tiger just waiting for the slightest hint of a reason to pounce on and kill him. But all of this left him utterly unfazed, and that almost frightened the Tiger.

"Nyle! Sir!" Lind called out suddenly, nearly three hours after Edmund had been hit.

"What is it?" The Siberian Tiger's attention never strayed from the pack of Humans.

"Torith! I think it's Torith! There, on the horizon."

At this, Nyle turned his head and looked in the direction of Anvard. Sure enough, the silhouette of a Stag, accompanied by a horse and rider, was racing for the group as fast as its slender legs could take it.

"Edlyn, go and meet them. The rest of you, don't leave your posts."

Once the Cheetah had taken off toward the new arrivals, Nyle focused back on the bound men. None had budged, though the once-smirking man was now scowling. The Siberian Tiger moved closer to him, blocking his view of Edmund. The Human, clearly a Calormene judging by his coloring, narrowed his eyes at the Tiger. There was something very familiar about the creature, though Nyle couldn't quite figure out what it was. Before he could think long enough to place the Human in his memory, a flurry of hooves and paws skidded to a stop next to him.

"Oh, Edmund!" Lucy's terrified voice was unmistakable.

For the first time in hours, Nyle looked over at his King. The boy was too pale to be possible, his skin a sickly gray color. He was shuddering with every breath and coughing nearly constantly. His lips and nails were blue with a lack of blood, and it was obvious, even to the untrained eye, that he had only minutes to live.

Lucy rushed to his side, ignoring the dirt on her dress and the hole she tore in the knee when she fell next to her brother. Her hands shook nearly as terribly as Edmund's as she pulled the stopper out of the cordial. Tilting his head back a bit, she allowed a single drop to fall into his mouth. He swallowed ever so weakly, and after a few long seconds, his shuddering began to slow. His coughing weakened steadily until it vanished completely. His skin remained that horrible gray color, but when he opened his eyes, they were no longer glazed over with pain and death, but now happy and grateful tears.

"Peter," Edmund's voice was still painfully weak. "Is going to kill me."

Lucy giggled thickly, clearly keeping her own tears at bay. "Forget about Peter. What about Susan?"

"Oh Aslan, I'm doomed." Edmund laughed as well, and Nyle watched as everyone sagged with relief at the lack of blood that accompanied it.

"That's one way to put it. She's never going to let you out of your room again after this."

"We needn't tell her just yet, right?"

"Well…"

"Lucy, you didn't," Edmund sat up, though it required a fair amount of help from Phillip. "Tell me you didn't."

"What was I supposed to do?" His sister finally began to cry. "What did you expect me to do? I was sitting in the garden, having a lovely cup of tea with King Lune, when a young boy suddenly runs up to us, white as marble. He tells me a messenger has just arrived, a Stag, announcing that my brother was just attacked and is in dire need of my cordial. King Lune wastes no time in fetching me his fastest horse, and poor Torith looked ready to drop dead with exhaustion. He looked desperate, said that my brother's wound was grave and he may only have a few hours left.

"What was I supposed to do with something like that hanging over my head? I didn't think, Edmund. I just reacted. I told King Lune to send word to my family. It was the only thing I said to him before I left. It made sense at the time."

"Oh Lucy, I'm so sorry." Edmund held his sister close as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, but darn it Edmund, if you ever do it again you won't need to worry about Peter or Susan. I'll kill you myself."

Edmund smiled weakly. "Of course. I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

"Sire," Edmund and Lucy looked up sharply at the sudden voice. Nyle, still standing by the attackers, was watching them gravely. Everyone was watching them, now that Edmund thought about it, though most looked overjoyed at seeing their King restored. "Are you feeling up to interrogating these beasts, or would you prefer we do it without you?" The Siberian Tiger was not angry or impatient. He simply wanted to get the task over and done with so the men could face their proper punishment.

"I'll need some help standing," Phillip stood up immediately and placed himself next to his boy. Edmund smirked. "But I will help you."

The Horse lowered his head and Edmund grabbed onto his mane tightly. Lucy steadied her brother as Phillip helped him stand. The moment all of Edmund's weight was on his legs, they gave out. With a gasp, Lucy caught him, and it took a silent battle of wills carried out in a staring contest for Edmund to convince her to help him stand up again. He did better the second time around, though it was obvious that he was having a significant amount of trouble keeping his stance.

Using Phillip and Lucy as his legs for the most part, Edmund made his way carefully over to the group of men. There were five total, bound together by meager ropes and fear of the carnivores circling them. All were scratched and bruised, though a few sported some deep wounds. Most were scared, or at least had the decency to look scared, but one in particular caught Edmund's eye. He was staring directly at the King, and when the two made eye contact, Edmund nearly collapsed.

"Edmund! Edmund, are you alright? What's wrong?" Lucy pleaded, doing her best to keep him upright.

"It's Mahir..." Edmund whispered his reply, never removing his gaze from the Calormene. And indeed it was.


	27. Strangers

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry this has taken so long to update. My computer crashed…again…and I had to get a completely new one, not to mention college jamming itself down my throat. I'm not sure how often I will update, but I hope to do so much more frequently than I have been.

**Disclaimer: **I don't even own my own life, how could I possibly own a world-renowned franchise?

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**25. Strangers**

Edmund and Mahir locked eyes. Both of them reacted quite differently and yet somehow with a flair of similarity as they stared at each other. Edmund stiffened and paled, struggling to keep his composure. His hands trembled slightly and he felt the overwhelming urge to look down and ask what was required of him. His eyes burned with a mix of hatred and fear, and he wasn't sure which one to favor.

Mahir, on the other hand, kept his body relaxed and his face caught in a smirk. His eyes narrowed slightly at his former servant and they too held the same emotions as Edmund's, but the fear was a vastly different fear. His fear wasn't born in abuse and pain, as Edmund's was, but in curiosity. How on earth had the boy survived the arrow? Mahir knew enough about the Cordial the Valiant Queen carried with her. What he couldn't understand was how Edmund had survived long enough for her to get it to him. The shot had been nearly perfect, at least grazing the heart if not puncturing it altogether. Though Mahir had heard stories of men surviving for several hours after being shot in the heart, he would have never guessed that a boy could have done it.

"Edmund," Queen Lucy's soft voice broke both slave and slave master out of their reveries. Edmund jumped and slowly turned toward her, loathe to take his eyes off of the man before him. Mahir sat perfectly still and instead turned his smile from the boy to the girl. "Edmund, please come away, come sit down with me. You don't need to be a part of this. Nyle and the others can deal with him well enough. Please just sit."

It was lost on everyone how Edmund resisted the earnest pleas of his little sister, shaking his head and standing firm. Lucy had the famous gift of being able to get her brothers to do just about anything when she asked in the right tone, but apparently there were exceptions to every rule.

"I passed judgment on him once," Edmund answered her, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "I seem to have chosen his punishment poorly. I need to remedy that." A brief image of Nath flittered through Edmund's thoughts. He let out a soft breath through his nose in something akin to a sound of amusement and shook his head slightly.

"Edmund…?" Lucy tilted her head worriedly.

"I'm alright. Just thinking of Nath and how right he was."

"Filthy slave. You turned my best man against me. I should see you ha-" Mahir was cut off by a swipe to the head from Nyle's paw.

"You will _not _address my King. Is that clear?" The Tiger growled deeply, stepping between the man and King. "You will hold your tongue, or you will lose it." Mahir scowled, but made no further attempts to speak.

"Sire, what will you have us do?" Nyle bowed slightly.

"Interrogate them, one at a time, away from each other. It's possible that Mahir blackmailed them into this. I would like to sit in on the interrogations-"

"Edmund..."

"To make it easier for me to pass a proper judgment." Edmund continued on as though he hadn't heard his little sister.

"Yes, Sire," Nyle bowed once again and turned to the soldiers under his charge. "Cynric, I will leave it up to you and Pell to keep the men in line. Lind, Torith, you two will be with me. Edlyn, I want you to guard King Edmund, and Neci, you will be in charge of Queen Lucy."

"Who would you like to interview first?" Cynric walked closer to the bound men, ready to separate one from the group.

"The kit to your right," Nyle glared at the coward who had begged for mercy under the Tiger's paws. He was young and certainly not bred for battle. "I think he will open up the quickest."

Cynric nodded and wove between the men, forcefully separating the teenager from the rest of the group. Lind grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him to his feet, making sure he didn't fall but not doing much else to help him walk. The designated group of soldiers, attacker, and King made their way far down the path, out of earshot but not eyeshot. Once the spot had been chosen, Edmund took a seat on a rock and the young stranger sat on the ground a few feet away. Lind and Torith flanked the Calormene on either side while Nyle stood between the two men and Edlyn stood to Edmund's right.

"What is your name?" Nyle began the interrogation.

"A-A-Ars-salaan…" The boy stammered, his eyes wide with terror and entire body trembling.

"And how old are you, Arsalaan?"

"I…I'm f-fifteen…sir…"

"What are you doing so far from home, boy?"

"M-Mahir…he…asked m-me to come…"

For over forty five minutes the interview went on, slowed by the boy's fear and stutter. Nyle had been correct in judging him, though. He was a well of information and answered every question asked of him. Just as Edmund had feared, the young man had been blackmailed into joining the group. He insisted that he had been working with his mother, dying fabrics for market the next day, when Mahir had barged into the home. At first he and his mother had fought him, but Mahir was strong and quickly overpowered the woman. He held a knife to her throat and demanded that Arsalaan join him. Fearing for his mother's life, the young boy agreed and followed Mahir out of the house. He swore that he had had no idea of the plan until he spotted Edmund riding with his guards. He had been told that they were going to raid travelers, but that none would be hurt. He knew that it had been a ridiculous story, to raid but not harm, and he had only believed it out of foolish hope.

"Arsalaan, if I may ask," Edmund paused for a moment, thinking deeply. "How was it that you knew Mahir? Certainly he didn't just barge in on a random home…"

"N-No…" Arsalaan's voice changed radically in that one word. During the entire questioning he had been terrified and shaky. Now he spoke with a loathing fervor. "He k-killed my father ab-bout seven years ago."

"That was your father? I'm sorry…" Edmund frowned a bit and looked down, remembering all too vividly when Yasir told him that he thought his father had killed someone.

"Y-You knew? Who t-told you?" Now the boy's anger was turned on him. Edmund bit his lip.

"I was a slave of Mahir's once. You hear a lot of things when you work for someone."

"So you're the s-slave who gave him all the t-trouble."

"You've heard about me?" Edmund raised an eyebrow.

"He n-never shuts up ab-bout you."

"I think we've learned all we need, Sire," Nyle stepped in between the two boys, blocking their staring contest. "Do you wish to pass judgment on him now or later?"

"Now. Set him free, he has done nothing wrong that he did out of his own free will. Let Lucy tend to him."

Nyle nodded and walked behind the boy, carefully tearing the bonds around his wrists. Arsalaan drew his shoulders forward uncomfortably, gave a small, grateful smile to Edmund, and stood. He bowed slightly in a rather awkward manner before turning to start heading back.

"Y-You know," He said quietly. "You are n-n-not n-nearly as b-bad as the T-Tisroc, m-may he live f-forev-ver, makes y-you out to b-be. Thank y-you."

Edmund smiled a bit at the boy as he, accompanied by Lind, walked away and sat next to Lucy. Lind explained the situation to the Queen who, true to self, immediately drew closer to Arsalaan, placed a hand on his shoulder, and started whispering words of comfort.

The rest of the interrogations went by just as interestingly as Arsalaan's had. Nyle insisted they interrogate the ones who ran first, hoping to find more men as open as Arsalaan had been. The first man, a middle-aged Calormene named Gohar, had been forced into the business as well, though it had taken far less coaxing than Arsalaan. He said that he and Mahir had been friends when they were young men, but their businesses had led them in different directions, and neither heard from the other for years. Then, quite unexpectedly, he claimed Mahir had shown up at his house and asked for his help. Gohar had at first resisted, insisting he had his business to watch over and it was no fault of his if Mahir's had gone to rot and Mahir needed his help fixing it. But then Mahir had threatened to reveal some rather illegal practices Gohar participated in, and then what choice did he have but to tag along?

Unlike Arsalaan, very little of this information came easy. It took three times as long with much heavier interrogation techniques to get Gohar to talk. When it was all said and done, however, Edmund decided to send him back to Calormen and turn him over to the Tisroc.

The next runner was a strong young man who refused to give a name. He refused to say much of anything, really, save for a "curse upon your crops and citizens" here and a "burn in Hell, barbarian imbecile" there. Quickly growing tired of the antics, Edmund decided to send the Calormene to Narnia where Peter and other trained men could question him to their heart's content.

With the fourth and final runner declared dead and unreachable at the bottom of a cliff, Edmund sent for the elder of the two archers. He was an older man well past middle age. His face was relaxed and his eyes were smiling, but his body was trembling ever so slightly. His jet black hair was laden with thick streaks of gray, and Edmund couldn't help but wonder why Mahir had asked for his help when Calormen was full of stronger, younger men who would have been happy to assist him in murdering one of the barbarian Kings.

Lind helped the old man sit, but before anyone had the chance to open their mouths to ask a question, the Calormene spoke up.

"I had fun." His voice was rickety with old age, and sounded half dreamy.

"What?" Edmund tilted his head and raised his eyebrow.

The man simply smiled knowingly. "One day, when you've become old and no one wants you anymore, you will pray for someone to come and ask for your help, for your skills with the sword," The man glanced at Edmund's weapon tethered to his hip. "And one day they will, and you will not remember a time when you felt more joy than that moment, when you and your most trusted partner are able to fulfill your purpose once again. One day, young King, you will wish you had swung your blade, or fired your arrow, far more often than you did, and you will plead outright for a chance to do it again."

"Duly noted…" Edmund was thoroughly confused, but decided to let the elderly Calormene continue to speak.

"You will understand when the time comes. And when someone asks you to once again draw your sword or knock your bow, you will not care what the purpose is. You will not care what enemy you may fell. You will not care who suffers at your hand, so long as you and yours can do battle once again, as you did during your Glory Days."

"I believe that I will care, sir. I will care very greatly about what harm may be dealt by my hand. I will not allow a life to fall simply so I may feel a rush of adrenaline." The Just King stared at the man sternly, wondering how something as large as a life could be so insignificant to him.

The enemy's nostalgic, happy expression never faltered. "It is more than adrenaline, young man. You cannot understand the ache until you have felt it."

Edmund frowned, but said nothing more on the matter. Instead, Nyle was the one to speak up.

"What is your name, Calormene?"

"My name? Ooh, my name is not important, good Tiger. I have no one to call me by it anymore back home. You may call me He, if you so wish."

"What is your purpose for attacking my King?"

"It matters little that he is your King, Tiger," And still He smiled. "He was simply a reason to once again knock my bow."

"How and why did Mahir recruit you?"

"So official," He tsk'd. "You will feel the ache as I have felt, but not the one for your weapon. You will ache for a lost childhood, my good Tiger. When you can no longer keep the weight, and pain in your bones keeps you from your duties, you will wish with all of your heart to be young again so that you might have a chance to live a different lifestyle, a better lifestyle."

"Stay on the subject, Calormene. How and why did Mahir recruit you?"

"Oh alright, I'm used to no one listening to me. No one ever listens until I'm proved right. Mahir is my nephew. He was the most troublesome of the lot, but he was the only one who listened to me and my silly old stories. I had told him stories, as a child, of my great prowess with a bow, and it is so wonderful to know that he never forgot those stories. I was the first one he approached with this ridiculous plan to take out a Barbarian. I told him it was foolish, impossible, but only once. It was a chance to fire my bow again, and we both understood the significance of that."

"So you would kill…just to be able to fire your bow again?" Edmund looked He over, not understanding his reasoning in the slightest.

"Of course!" He grinned, revealing the few teeth he had left.

"Why wouldn't you just fire at a target?"

"So young, too young to understand. " He's smile turned nostalgic and remorseful, and his eyes grew distant as he lost focus on Edmund sitting in front of him.

"Sire, have you decided upon a sentence?" Edlyn spoke up, keeping her keen eyes locked on the elderly Calormene.

"Conspiracy to kill one of Narnia's kings and attempted murder. He'll stay in our dungeon until the end of his days."

"Ooh, that won't be long now." The Calormene laughed weakly, the chuckles turning into a coughing fit after a moment.

"I know," Edmund frowned when the man began coughing. "Otherwise, I would have given you a more specific sentence. I give you leave. Take him back to the others, and bring me Mahir."


	28. 2532012 UPDATE

****Hey guys, Pariah here. I'm terribly sorry I haven't updated recently. I am currently in my last semester of college working toward getting my Associate's Degree, which is going to be followed with a Bachelor's in English. I am taking two advanced English courses (both of which require an astronomical amount of reading and writing. We have to read Moby Dick in 4 days!), a health class with an ass for a teacher that I've had to go to the dean to talk about because of his potentially-personal attacks on my grade, a creative writing class, and I am now working two jobs. Because of all that has been going on, my free time to write has been reduced to nil. I promise I haven't given up on anything, though! As soon as classes let out come May, I'll get right back on the ball. I just wanted to let you all know that I'm not dead and I am truly sorry for not having updated.

I don't want you all to feel gypped by this little update, though, so here is a sneak preview of the next chapter that I have written so far:

_It hadn't been an exceptionally exciting day for Peter, at least, not at first. He had woken up an hour before dawn to train with Oreius, though it was much lonelier than he was used to. He had grown accustomed to Edmund walking alongside him to the training grounds, griping the entire way about the air being too cold, or the grass being too wet, or his stomach being too empty. It was always something, but that wasn't to say Edmund was at all lazy or bitter when it came to training. Griping had simply been his way of waking up, and it had, ironically, always done wonders in putting Peter into a good mood as well. The frustrated, hardly serious laments of the teenage boy had, every morning, struck a chord in Peter, and more often than not, he would find himself in the throes of an attack of the giggles by the time they reached the training grounds._

_ Not today, though, nor for the past several days. Six days ago, Edmund had set out with Lucy on a trip to Archenland. His sister had been planning on spending a couple of weeks with King Lune and his twin sons while Edmund traveled on to the coast to meet with two dear friends of his who were set to be married. For his siblings, Peter was certain the past six days had been nothing short of splendid. Lucy and Edmund had always enjoyed the two day trip to Archenland far more than the elder two, and days spent with the twins had to be a blast. Not for the staff of Anvard, of course, but for the four children. The thought of the calamities Edmund and Corin had most certainly caused in the three short days Edmund had been around must have been Hell for the kitchen staff, handmaidens, and others. Peter would have given anything to see the two commandeer the place for even a day, but unfortunately, he had had to stay behind and wait his turn to visit the ally castle with Susan in another week's time._

_ His days hadn't been nearly so fun, today least of all. Training had gone well, more or less, if not a bit harder than usual, due to having all of the instructors to himself. Breakfast afterward was satisfying, though a little bland without Edmund's spicy quips to lighten the mood, or Lucy's sugary, low-key reminders that she and Susan were still half asleep and certainly nowhere near awake enough to find his jokes as humorous as he'd like. Court was miserable, as always, and especially so without Edmund's comedic expressions or Lucy's cute little smiles to those who needed the brightness. Susan was there to cheer him up, of course, but only in theory. For the most part, Peter was left to himself while his sister bustled about taking care of her own matters. _

_ It was during one of these lonely moments, an hour or so after dusk, when a beautiful Falcon perched on a branch next to Peter's head. The Bird looked terrified and sorrowful, and a jolt of utter dread washed over Peter like a thick veil falling after the last act of a play. _

_ "Your Majesty," The Falcon started, unable to look Peter in the eye. "It is your brother, Sire. He has been felled on the path to Stormness Head. Queen Lucy rushed to his aid as soon as she heard what had happened, but the situation was dire, and..." The Bird trailed off._

_ "And...? How far was he? Did she make it?" Peter tried not to shout at the Bird, remembering a phrase his brother used to always tell him about shooting messengers and how it was rather frowned upon in most situations._

_ "I'm not completely sure of the details, Sire, but it doesn't look good. The Stag who delivered the message said only that he was shot in the chest and was living on borrowed time."__  
_


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